


ORCL

by SomeSortOfCat



Series: The Rose Saga [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-09 05:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16443959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeSortOfCat/pseuds/SomeSortOfCat
Summary: 'THE ROSE SAGA' Book 2: Cedric Rose, father of Summer Rose, must prepare his daughter for a battle he should've seen coming long before it took everything from them. Follow Ruby's Grandfather through the journey that saw him born to war heroes, raised a warrior himself, and placed on a team with a young Tobias Ozpin at Beacon Academy forty years before the Fall of Beacon.





	1. The Beginning of My End

**Chapter One: The Beginning of My End**

Brightly shone the shattered moon the night my life ended. The road leading to Eneas’ Landing was flanked on either side by grassy fields spattered with luna orchids, my wife’s favorite flower. It was indeed beautiful, the greens and purples of grass and thistle now interspersed with the pure-white blooms of the orchids that only unfurl from the bud under the light of the moon. The bright silvery glow from the cold, broken orb above was all I needed to follow the path through the gently rolling rises and dips in those budding fields, all the way to the Shallow Sea, where the small, peaceful fishing village that’d been named for the hero of the Battle of the Burning Pass lay. I hadn’t lain eyes on it in close to three months. The only worry I had in the world was the possibility that my baby girl wouldn’t remember me, despite Leila’s assurances when I’d had enough scroll signal to call home that she’d been showing little Summer my picture every night when she tucked our baby into her crib. She said my little silver-eyed daughter smiled and reached out every time she saw the image. I couldn’t help but grin hopefully at the thought.

Pausing at the top of the next rise, I stooped on the side of the path and surveyed the nearest flowers for the biggest and brightest I could find. Withdrawing one of my throwing knives, I cleanly sliced a dozen of these prime blossoms from their vines, tying them together with another length of excess stem and sheathing the blade. It would be even better if I could find some roses to mix into the bouquet, but crabby old Ms. Cyrella who lived a few cottages down from ours was the only person who grew any rosebushes in the town… And she’d made her annoyance at my ‘borrowing’ a few of her precious blooms painfully clear the last time I’d tried it.

Still, maybe I would anyway, I thought as each footstep took me closer and closer to the village outskirts. I could see the town inn, a humble stone and driftwood building where my friend Grey and his wife Aqua would faithfully keep a welcoming fire burning in their hearth for weary travelers along the coast road or coming in from further east as I was. Sometimes I’d be able to hear patrons laughing and even singing along with Grey as the elderly fellow bellowed shanties and played his old hurdy-gurdy, their shadows dancing on the glass of the front windows as a merry blaze lit the main room within. After a mission, I’d usually stop in and have a drink, and trade the account of my most recent adventure for another of the old man’s outrageous sea stories of monstrous sea-grimm that he’d outwitted in games of riddles or fought back against with naught but a broken oar back when he himself was a fisherman.

Grey himself was out on the front porch of his inn, changing the wick on an old lantern he kept lit in the doorway. As I approached, he waved, old eyes squinting to see who the black-cloaked traveler was. I already knew he was about to hit me with his ‘Evening, Friend! Come on in, we got a warm fire and good rum’ routine.

“Evening, Friend! Come on in, we got a warm fire, good rum, and the softest beds anywhere outside a’ the big city waitin’ for yeh!”

“Come on, Grey. You don’t recognize me? I haven’t been gone _that_ long.”

“Hang on, I knows that voice. Cedric, that you, you young liar?” I laughed. ‘Young liar’ was one of the nicknames he’d given me when I’d made the mistake of trying to out-embellish him on one of our rounds of back and forth storytelling. If anyone was a liar, it was Grey, but I let the old man have his big fish tales.

“Yeah, it’s me, Grey.”

“Ah, well, come on in. We’re havin’ a sale on me home brew! One night only, you pay exactly what I normally charge, and I tells you about the time I reeled in a flying sea-serpent for free! Damn thing burst out the water and took off, I’m tellin’ ye. But I wouldn’t let go a’ the line. Had the time of me life, flyin’ around like I broke wind with a gravity-dust crystal shoved up me arse!”

“Not tonight, young man,” I replied. “Gotta get back to the missus.”

“ _Young_ man, he says. I do believe you’re mockin’ me there, mister.”

I raised my hands defensively. “Me? Never.”

“Ehhh yeah, whatever kid. Go on then, get! Oh and ah, Cedric?”

“Yeah?”

“Almost forgot. Feller was lookin’ for you earlier. ‘Bout a hour ago, actually. Tall guy, black beard and some kinda robes. Like a nightgown, I thought. Religious type, I took him for. Had some kinda two-headed snake clasp on his mantle. Know anyone like that?”

I thought for a moment. The description didn’t ring a bell. Something didn’t sit right, either. “Two-headed snake?”

“Yeah, but not like, er—you know, two heads on one end. Thing had a head on each end, coiled around itself like so.” Grey wound his weathered old arms around each other as best he could to show how the two halves of the strange symbol had been intertwined, before continuing. “Kinda reminded me of a Sea-Taijitu that swallowed a cast-net full a’ sea-bass I was fixin’ to haul in one time. That was big money right there, must’ve been a twenty score a’ fish in that net. I jumped in after the damn thing so quick I—”

“What did you tell him?” I interrupted.

“I—er, oh. I told him you was away on business, but yer wife could take a message for yeh if it was somethin’ important. Didn’t know you’d be back tonight, and I guess I figured Leila could handle herself if this guy was some kinda door-to-door preacher man.”

That she could, I thought amusedly. Still, something about a guy wearing a clasp with a grimm on it felt… Wrong. Even if he was just some religious nut. “I better be going. I might still catch him. Whatever he wants, I’ll be sure to send him your way once he’s spoken his piece.”

“Ey, I’d appreciate that, kind sir. Though, don’t bother if he don’t have any lien to spend, eh? Have a good’n. Tell the missus and the little’n Grampa Grey says ahoy.”

“Will do, Grey,” I said, waving over my shoulder as I carried on down the cobblestone main street. I breathed a sigh of relief for having been able to get out of one of Grey’s storytelling sessions. The thought of the bearded man with the grimm emblem though… My pace quickened. A tingle in the back of my neck like I get when a grimm has the drop on me on a mission was enough for me to stretch my stride down the half-kilometer or so it was to the row of waterfront cottages where my home lay.

I didn’t have time for religious fanatics tonight, if that’s all this guy was. All I really wanted to do right now was fall into Leila’s arms. This mission had been twice as long as any I’d gone on before, a favor for Tobias, my old team leader. Funny how now, barely six years since we’d graduated Beacon, the guy was getting ready to take Hargrave’s spot as Headmaster of the school. Having a several-millennia-old soul stuck in your head had to come with some perks, I supposed. I guessed the old King had finally decided Ozzy was ready. Anyway, I couldn’t very well tell him no. Especially not for how much lien the council had put forward on this one. A whole cell of Faunus militants had been raiding the overland routes between Vale and the settlements on the western coast of Sanas, stalking trade caravans deep in the Andarian Mountains, even killing some huntsmen hired to protect the cargo and passengers.

Apparently, these guys had been dismissing Ozpin’s messages that the Faunus War three years ago had ended in a victory for their species as nothing more than human propaganda. I couldn’t say that I blamed them, given how shamefully humanity was still treating their kind. That’d been a bad war. Cruel, brutal. A societal curb-stomp of a people already pushed to the brink. I shook my head at the remembrance of some of the things I’d seen. I hadn’t wanted to kill any of the ones I’d been sent to root out of the mountain passes, and honestly wasn’t sure that I didn’t anyway. It’d taken quite a bit of ‘convincing’ to get them to come out of their hideouts, and that’s not even considering that I’d had to _find_ the caves first. Once I had found them, it was simple enough, if inelegant. Amazing how effectively a few well-placed explosive dust crystals and the resulting rockslides motivated the hard-headed. Once I’d flushed them out, it hadn’t taken long for disagreements on how to continue their war on the humans devolved into infighting that drew the grimm in droves. All but their leader and his most devout followers scattered after that, and I figured a half-dozen misguided faunus weren’t going to be as much of a problem as the forty or fifty that had been terrorizing the pass before I took care of the situation. They’d give up and go home eventually, and hopefully learn that Oz hadn’t been lying to them.

As I passed the building that was both the small town’s mayor’s office and his home, I began to hear the sounds of the sea beyond the rocky barrier islands that protected the docks in the cove of Eneas’ Landing. That’s how I always could tell I was almost home myself. I remembered Leila’s eyes lighting up when we’d seen the ad for the little seaside cottage in the Vale CCNet’s ‘For Sale’ home listings within the Kingdom. She and I had both been raised on the island of Vytal, and Leila had always loved everything about the ocean. I’d always liked the mountains more, but since we were kids I’d had a crippling inability to deny her anything when she started with that ‘big blue eyes’ routine of hers. Hm. Maybe with all the money the Kingdom wired to me for this last mission, we’d be able to afford a cabin up in Forever Fall as our winter home.

The sounds of the waves crashing and receding over and over on the rocky barrier that protected Eneas’ Landing’s small cove brought up memories, deep and fond remembrances of days spent playing on Vytal’s rocky shore with Leila and her dogs. So many years ago, that’d been. I think I’d been five or six when I’d first met Leila. My mother, Eliana Rose, had brought me over to stay with some of her friends while she and my father went off on business down in the capital. The Nightshades were a couple that, like many around that time, were only a few years removed from the battlefield and beginning a family of their own. Mister and Missus Nightshade had been in the same company in the Army of Vale as my father and mother during the Great War and had settled down about five miles up the coast from us.

My parents were leaving Vytal for a few days, and my older brothers had a nasty habit of getting me into trouble, since I was too impressionable to say no when they dared me to swipe a candy bar or break a window with a rock or something. I hadn’t really had many options. Go stay with two strangers and some _girl_ , or stay home alone with a pair of energetic and careless older siblings who would undoubtedly use me for some scheme the moment our parents were out of sight. My mother ended up choosing the prior for me, and my brothers, Cobalt and Cerulean, had ribbed me terribly for it. I remember trying to protest after the decision had been made, but our mother had been rather… Insistent.

* * *

“Aw, look at little _Cedric_ , all dressed up for his play _date_ with a _giiirrrrllll…_ ”

“Bet he’s gonna come back all covered in _makeup_ with a little toy _doll_ she gave him!”

“Am not!” I protested, fussing with the navy-blue neckerchief on the stupid sailors’ uniform my mom had bought for me to wear.

“Are too! Just wait, first thing she’s gonna say to you, squirt! ‘Hey, I’m _Leila_ , your outfit is soooo _cuute,_ wanna go paint our nails?” Cobalt was twelve, and Cerulean ten. They really were just my stepbrothers, adopted ‘orphans’ from the ‘War’ my mother and father had told me ended less than a year before I’d been born. I didn’t know what the word ‘orphan’ meant. Heck, I didn’t know what ‘War’ meant. To me, ‘War’ was the reason I had two brothers whom I hated but mom and dad told me I had to love, even when they got me in trouble or shoved me around or made fun of me with their friends. Whatever ‘War’ really meant, it must be a bad thing. It caused stepbrothers.

“You two should be so lucky,” I heard my mother chide from the dining room. She finished tightening the final clasp on her dented and scratched breastplate and pulled her shimmering gray-green cloak up over her shoulders. “I can’t leave you three alone for a few hours, let alone a few days it seems, or you’ll set the whole island on fire. So, you two little ruffians get to keep an eye on the house, while your brother gets to spend a few days with my friends and their daughter. Leila’s a beautiful young lady, just so you boys know.”

“Girls are dumb,” Cerulean grumbled.

“Yeah, dumb as rocks,” Cobalt added, nodding his agreement.

“If you boys weren’t so young, I bet you wouldn’t think so,” my mother pointed out, kneeling and ruffling my brother’s hair. “At any rate, you keep the house safe, alright? Our little guardians, right? Your dad and I will be home before you know it.”

“Yes ma’am!” Cobalt assured my mother, straightening his back and puffing his chest out. Cerulean mimicked the soldierly posture. It was something my father had taught them. He strode out from into the foyer where we all stood from the kitchen just then as well, hefting his twin warhammers into the steel holsters attached to the belt that hung outside his own armor’s tassets.

“Look at my boys! Standing so straight and proud! You look like you could take on a whole Atlesian division, or five or six packs of grimm each! Haha!”

“Don’t put dumb ideas in their heads, Agîl. You know that’s the first thing they’ll actually try to do, right?” My mother scolded my father playfully. “Can’t have them starting a second war now, can we?”

“Strapping young fighters like them on our side? It’d be over in ten days, not ten years.”

“Days or years makes little difference. I’d rather not think about any of our children having to live through anything other than peace for the rest of their lives. Why else did the two of us even go to war, hmm?”

My father’s proud look softened into some emotion I couldn’t place, like he was remembering something… Something bad that he didn’t want to remember, but my mother’s words forced him to think about anyway. He sighed. “Yeah, I know, Ell. I know.” My mother stood and wrapped her arms around my father’s neck, each of their worn old sets of heavy steel plate clanking against the other’s as they embraced.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to be such a downer. C’mere, big guy.” I hated when they got all mushy like that. I looked away, rolling my eyes as I heard them kissing. _Blegh_ , I thought. Finally, they broke it up, and my mother ushered me towards the door. “Don’t forget your bag, Cedric, my mom said, handing me the little black knapsack that held a toothbrush and enough clothes for a few days’ stay at with a family of strangers. I looped my arms through the straps and cast a look back at my stepbrothers as my father pat their shoulders. Their mischievous grins were enough to convince me that I really probably better off somewhere else while Mom and Dad were gone. Still, I promised myself that if this ‘Leila’ girl so much as brought out a _single_ doll for us to play with, I was gonna get as far away as I could as fast as my little legs would take me.

It was a thirty-minute canter up the coast on horseback to the Nightshade residence. I rode with my mother, on the back of her old retired warhorse, Hestia. The pale old mare was as smart and loyal a beast as they come, and I would often go hide in her stall in the barn when I was trying to escape my brothers. She’d always been more than willing to snort and snap aggressively at the Cobalt and Cerulean if they ever came looking for me, especially if I brought her an apple or two. My father’s horse, Brego, was a bit meaner to everyone except Hestia and my father Agîl. The crotchety old black stallion tolerated me only because Hestia did, I sometimes thought. Other times I’d look in that horse’s eyes and swear he just wanted to kick me in the face. Today however, with his master on his back, Brego stayed singularly focused on the path ahead, like in his mind he and my father were going off to another battle.

Rounding the base of a small hillock, I saw a stone pillar marked with an emblem that kind of reminded me of the one my own family used. This symbol was of a flower somewhat more delicate and narrower than the ‘burning rose’ sigil that was emblazoned on my mother’s cloak and father’s armor. Three berries hung from a vine that circled the five-petaled bloom, and an arrow and sword crossed behind those. The stone pillar marked the end of a path that wound up the back side of that hill to a house at its crest, nestled in a copse of live oak trees. “We’re here, sweetie,” my mother murmured to me as she guided Hestia into a turn off the main road and into a trot up the hill. Two figures appeared from the doorway of the house as the clopping of hooves on the gravel and dirt path drew close. “Serena! Tabor!”

“Hi Ell!” The woman on the porch called out. The man who I could only assume was Tabor waved as well. “Agîl! Surprised you still fit in that armor!”

“Always the one with the jokes, Serena,” my father rumbled back as we approached.

“That little Cedric up there with you?” Mrs. Nightshade asked my mother after the four old friends shared a chuckle at the jab at my father’s weight and my parents brought their horses to a halt.

“Yep! Here Cedric… _Uuuup_ we go!” My mother took hold of me under my arms and hoisted me off Hestia’s saddle, leaning out and lowering me as far as she could before dropping me the last two feet or so and dismounting herself. “Last time you saw him was what, three years ago?”

“Yeah, grown up some, hasn’t he?” Mrs. Nightshade replied. I stayed close to my mother’s leg while the grown-up chatter faded out of focus and I looked around the homestead where I’d be spending the next few days. The house was tucked between five old live oaks. I hadn’t noticed from the road, but one of the gnarly old branches of one tree passed right through the corner of the second floor of the house, like the home had been built around it. A window was situated right by where the branch emerged from the front of the simple painted clapboard fascia of the residence, and for a moment I saw a figure peeking out from within. The little silhouette ducked back as soon as it realized I was looking at it. It must’ve been the girl.

Besides the winding branch that was growing through the house, there was very little else remarkable about my new surroundings. The hill was vast and grassy, with a draw that became a gulley or streambed of some kind further around that I hadn’t noticed earlier. The road my parents and I had traveled up to get here wound close to the sea on this side of the island, a lot closer here than it was to our house. If I listened really closely I could hear the pounding of waves and the calls of gulls in the distance. I’d probably be spending most of my time down there, I thought.

“Alright, bud. Daddy and I have to go now, or we won’t reach the port in time to make the ferry to Sanas. Gimme a squeeze?” My mother knelt by my and crushed me with an armored embrace even as she was asking if I would hug her back, so I kinda had no choice in the matter.

“Be good, son. We’ll be back in a week.” My dad shook my hand as my mother stood and stepped back. He never hugged either my brothers or me. “Good grip you got there, boy,” my father added with a grin. I could almost sense he wanted to give me a hug, but something was stopping him. I didn’t think much of it. That’s just how he was. Instead, he patted my shoulder and stood, towering over me in his armor, before snapping off a smart salute to Mr. and Mrs. Nightshade and leaping back into Brego’s saddle. “C’mon boy. _Hupp_!” Brego whinnied and clopped off down the hill. My mother watched my father and his horse go for a second, before looking back down at me.

“Be nice to Leila, okay? Friends are a warrior’s greatest weapon, son. Remember that.” With that, my mother turned, leaping back onto Hestia and giving the old mare a quick pat on her well-muscled haunch. “ _Hyahh_!” Hestia reared a little as she turned, kicking up rocks and dirt as she galloped off to catch up to Brego.

“Well, Cedric, may as well come on inside and meet the family!” Mrs. Nightshade said warmly as I watched my parents leave.

“They never told me why they had to go,” I said absently.

“Oh, honey… It’s very important. The King needs help building that school down in Vale.”

“What’s so important about a school?” I asked, turning and actually looking at Mrs. Nightshade for the first time since I’d been dismounted from my mother’s horse.

“Well, you’re a curious one, aren’t you? King Zoroaster wanted to build a place where warriors like your mother and father could find… Answers. It’s… It’s hard to explain. You were born after a very terrible time. It left people confused.”

“Confused about what?” I pressed.

A reflective look crossed Mrs. Nightshade’s face as she looked to her husband. “A lot of things,” She finally answered. “You’ll understand someday. It’s not easy being a warrior when there’s no war left to fight. Now, come on, I’ll fix you and Leila some lunch, and you two can go play after that.”

“Does she play with dolls?” I asked. Mr. Nightshade actually laughed. Loudly. It took me off-guard a bit.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry there, son.” That was a little reassuring, I supposed. I still didn’t understand what he meant, but the promise of no dolls was a good start. Mrs. Nightshade held the screen door for me as I took my first steps into their home. It smelled like chocolate chip cookies inside. “Here, let me get your bag, little man,” Mr. Nightshade said, taking my pack as I unslung it. “Leila! Sweetie, come on down here, we have a guest. Say hi!”

I heard footsteps padding down the stairs in response to her father’s call. A moment later, a head peeked out from the landing. The brilliant blue eyes in that head studied me for a moment, before the rest of the girl they belonged to stepped around the corner. She was a few inches taller than me, with short black hair shot through with blue highlights. She wore a girly denim overall skirt over a purple tee-shirt, and she kinda just stared at me for a few moments, studying me the same way I was her.

“Your eyes are a funny color,” she said finally.

“Leila! Be nice,” her mom scolded.

“What? I just said they were funny, momma,” Leila replied, shrugging innocently.

She may have been trying to play it off, but I knew a challenge when I heard one. I had two older siblings, after all. Though I addressed my next comment to her mother, I stared straight at Leila as I mimicked her shrug and smiled. “It’s okay, Mrs. Nightshade. She has funny blue hair.”

“It’s not _all_ blue!” Leila shot back defensively. “ _These_ are _highlights_.”

“I know what they are,” I replied evenly. “I just said they were funny.” Leila stared at me, as if surprised that I’d matched her in some war of wits or something.

Mr. and Mrs. Nightshade looked from me to Leila and back, as if worried we were already getting of on the wrong foot. “Listen, kids, maybe we need to just start back at introduc—”

“I like you,” Leila said to me, interrupting her mother, who paused before breathing a sigh of relief.

“I dunno about you yet,” I replied. Leila grinned. It’s like she could tell I was being sarcastic. She was definitely a lot smarter than either Cobalt or Cerulean, that was for sure. Those two oafs would’ve assumed I’d forgotten my place and probably pounded on me for it. That didn’t seem like it would be the case for this girl. For the first time since I’d learned I’d be spending a week with strangers, I felt like it might not be so bad.

* * *

As I rounded the corner onto the waterfront street that ran around the edge of the semicircular cove of Eneas’ landing, I caught my first sight of home. It was the last house on the left, a small, welcoming place that looked almost identical to the home Leila had been raised in, save for the live oak branch growing through the second floor. My memories of the day I’d met the girl who would eventually become my teammate and wife were interrupted, however, when a robed figure stepped out of the shadows behind a dockside bait shack and planted himself into the middle of my path. He didn’t match old Grey’s description of the man who’d been looking for me, except for his robes. Those were the same. A long, mantled, religious-looking getup with a clasp bearing the two twisted ends of a king taijitu.

This guy wasn’t tall with a black beard, though. He was a few inches shorter than me, heavily muscled, with half his head shaved and the other half of his blonde hair grown out to shoulder-length. He had tattoos like grimm markings all along the bald side of his head.

“I heard someone like you was looking for me. Tall guy, black beard. He with you?” No answer. “Listen, man. Coming off a long mission. All I wanna do is go home. Whatever you’re selling, or preaching, or whatever, we’re not interested.” The man still didn’t speak. I eyed him cautiously, tried to get a feel for his aura. Something Oz had taught my team, back in the day. You can reach out to tell someone’s intentions by feeling the shifts towards dark and light in their aura. Off of this guy, however… I got nothing. I couldn’t even feel his presence, like he was just a hole in the ambient spiritual energy that always flowed around every living thing, every blade of grass, sleeping townsperson, or crab that scuttled around under the docks. He felt like… Like a grimm.

“Alright, pal. Whatever. I’m going home.” I took another step forward, but before I could get any further than that, two more figures stepped out from the shadows on either side of the cobblestone street, completely blocking it off. I didn’t need to feel their aura to know their intent at this point. Whatever they wanted, it wasn’t good. My left hand dropped to Shadowrend, the double-ended glaive I kept collapsed in a sheath beneath my cloak. “You three trying to threaten me or something? Three-on-one? Gotta say, that’s bad odds for you idiots.”

The three men didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t ready weapons of their own. That was, not until I saw a flash of light at that last house on the left, followed shortly thereafter by the sharp report of an explosion as the shockwave reached me. The noise was punctuated by the rapid rhythm of weapon fire. Our house. Leila’s pistols. I’d recognize the sound anywhere. Flames licked the sky, big enough to be seen from here. In an instant, Shadowrend was in my hand and at full extension. “Get out of my way. Right. Now.” The blonde man who’d revealed himself first smiled.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible. Worry not, the rest of our brothers and sisters are dealing with your wife and daughter. You, however,” the man said, dropping into a fighter’s stance as well and clenching his fists, “Will never get to see them again, I’m afraid.” With that, the gloves the man wore began to emit a glow from inside his clenched palms. Rays of light shot out from between his fingers, like he had a piece of the sun clenched in each fist. After a moment, the red glow suddenly flashed even brighter, and a weapon appeared in each of his hands from seemingly nowhere. In his right, a curved sword like a dao or scimitar materialized, while in his left there was now a matching curved parrying dagger. Both weapons glinted like rubies, and glowed with an unnatural light. I could feel the radiant heat of the burn dust in his blades from meters away.

The men who flanked him also revealed similar weapons that seemed to grow from their hands like they were somehow able to control the formation and shape of whatever weapon they chose at will. The fists of the second man glowed blue as he clenched them, and what looked like some kind of liquid crystal flowed from between his fingers to encase his fists. Arcs of electricity flashed between spikes that sprouted from the fast-hardening substance. The third man hit his fists together, one atop the other, and pulled outward, the three-foot handle of what became an icy-blue morningstar a second later appearing out from his own glowing gloves.

“Like hell it is,” I snarled back, undeterred by the strange, dangerous-looking weapons. I lunged left, leaping over the swing of the ice-dust morningstar as its wielder struck a powerful downward blow. The spiked head slammed into the ground, sending spears of ice forward from the strike that slammed through the side of the house several meters away. I drew and flicked a throwing dagger at the morningstar-wielder’s back. It hit, but a green crackle of energy rippled across his shoulders and the blade ricocheted away harmlessly. So, these guys could use aura, but for some reason I hadn’t been able to feel it. That means I had to assume they had semblances too. This just got noticeably tougher, I thought as I landed, spinning low in an attempt to take the legs out from under the blonde-haired man with the sword and dagger. He dodged away easily before changing direction and hurling himself back towards me. I parried his flurry of burning blows, and was surprised at how durable the blades of pure dust were turning out to be. Dust was usually a brittle, unstable element. These blades looked like crystal, but rang against Shadowrend like hardened steel. He was beginning to pressure me back.

“I thought a real, live silver-eyed warrior would actually be a _challenge_. Seems I was wrong,” The blonde man taunted. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, instead waiting, biding my time to find the rhythm in his attacks. I could almost feel it. He led heavily with his right and the larger sword there, favoring high to low and backhanded slashes. His dagger only seemed to exist to parry my glaive, though once or twice he lunged out with it. I let him drive me back, back, until I was cornered against a different house. “Now, _DIE_ ,” he shouted, raising his sword for one final, powerful downward blow.

“Not today!” I struck out with the haft of Shadowrend, catching the man beneath his nose and breaking it right through his aura. He’d gotten cocky, routing too much of his protective field to his arms for that final strike. He staggered back, a stream of blood issuing from his nostrils, unsure of how I’d been able to mount such an effective attack after having been apparently outmatched since the outset of the battle. No use holding back anymore, I thought. Semblance time… Good thing it was night. The long shadows cast by the moon played to my advantage perfectly. The man with the spiked shock-fists leapt in to cover the retreat of his injured companion with a lightning-charged flying haymaker. I just stood there and stared at the new attacker, not even raising my weapon. His roar of effort as he swung morphed into a confused exclamation as his fist passed right through where my jaw would’ve been had I not burst into a cloud of jet-black rose petals and smoke.

The blonde man saw me disappear too, and looked about frantically to see where I’d gone… But he didn’t check his own shadow. I rematerialized right behind him and stabbed straight through his weakened aura, driving one Shadowrend’s twin blades through the back of his calf and into the ground. He screamed in shock and pain, crumpling to one knee as his injured leg gave out, and I spared no prejudice in ripping my weapon free of his injury and cracking him in the back of the skull with one of its unsharpened rear edges. One down, two to go.

As the blonde man fell, the second robed enemy, the one with the shock-dust fists, surged back over faster than I’d anticipated and landed a lucky sucker-punch in the small of my back. My aura crackled white across my body, and my vision blurred from the immense pain. Gritting my teeth, I whirled on this second attacker. A half-twist of each hand on the central grip of my weapon separated Shadowrend into two halves which I, in a single motion, folded over onto each other. As the two blades matched up and snapped together with a magnetic ‘ _clang_ ’, I flipped the now exposed double barrels of the shotgun-form of my glaive straight into his chest and yanked both triggers simultaneously.  The second assailant was blasted back across the street, slamming into the home on the corner as his aura flickered out. He would be dead, if his energy hadn’t saved him. I hurled a volley of throwing daggers at him as he slumped to make sure he stayed out of the fight, pinning him through both arms to the wooden wall of the house. One left.

Another wave of ice spikes shot along the ground from the final attacker. I was only barely fast enough to dodge this time, and one spike caught my cloak and ripped it as I leapt. Leila would give me an earful after we got done with these guys, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t fix. _Nice try,_ I thought. I slammed another pair of ten-gauge slugs into the break-action breech of Shadowrend and flicked my wrist, sending the barrels back into line with a satisfying ‘ _ScchhLOCK_ ’ noise. Twisting myself midair in my evasive leap brought the twin muzzles of my shotgun to bear on the third man, and another thunderous double-tap sent chips of his morningstar and a cloud of supercooled air into his face as he blocked. Perfect. Three daggers sailed into his blocked line of sight as he staggered back, the first crackling off his aura, the second slicing past his neck and drawing blood, and the third embedding deep into his right shoulder. The morningstar fell from his hand and shattered, as if not having a direct connection to his gloves made it lose its steel-like strength. The now unarmed man howled in pain, but was silenced as I twisted Shadowrend back into glaive-form and used it to vault into a swift flying axe-kick that slammed into the top of his head and knocked him out colder than the partially-melted pile of dust-charged slush that had been his weapon.

I wasted no time in turning to sprint up the street to the sounds of chaos and weapon fire that echoed through the town from the house on the corner. “Hang on, Leila. Hang on. I’ll be there soon,” I said, reassuring myself more than anything as I tore down the street, running unknowingly towards the end of the life I hadn’t dreamed could ever be taken from me. Why did I have to be so damn naïve?

 


	2. Outsider

**Chapter Two: Outsider**

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Summer?”

“How come other kids have a daddy and a mommy, but I only got a daddy?”

I’d deflected the question the last time she’d asked that. I couldn’t do it forever. Four years, it’d been. Four long years with every track covered, every mission completed under a different alias, and every moment living in fear that I’d turn a corner and see those robed figures and their glowing weapons waiting for me with a dagger at my daughter’s throat. Every night since that one, I’d slept fitfully, the image of a bouquet of blood-soaked luna orchids burned into my mind.

One more time. I couldn’t tell her yet… Or, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her yet. I told myself the same thing I always told myself: I’d save that conversation for when she was a little older. The thoughts that tortured me in my sleep couldn’t be put into words any child her age should be made to hear. “Silly, every kid has a daddy and a mommy. Your mommy is just… Not with us right now.” I reached down to tickle her, and she squealed and laughed as she tried in vain to stop me. “Looks like I’m all you got. You’re getting off lucky, imagine how bad we’d tickle you if there were two of us.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as my little girl scrambled out of my arms to escape the tickle attack, bursting through the tent flap and out into the mountainside tribal encampment. A pang of anxiety of having my daughter out of sight caused me to tense up. I almost followed her, to keep an eye on her. Only after a few moments of fierce internal debate did I allow myself to relax. The tribe we were staying with raised the kids as a community. She’d be safe enough. Everyone here was Aunt _this_ or Uncle _that_. Except me. I was an outsider. I didn’t look like them, I didn’t dress like them. They’d been more accepting of Summer, since she was only a child, but me? All they knew is that I told them I could help protect them if the worst happened and the nomads stumbled upon a pack of grimm again. For that, they’d given me a tent large enough for me, my little girl, and our precious few possessions, and a place down at the far corner of the table in the large community meeting tent… And nothing else.

Their hunter-warriors didn’t seem to like me that much. But after the last grimm attack the tribe had suffered, their Chieftain had reached out to the Mistral council and asked for huntsman aide. They’d taken a bad hit, surviving only barely, and the handful of capable fighters they had left were nowhere near enough to protect the tribe should the worst happen again. I’d gotten the text from Leo that he had a long-term assignment that he thought would suit me. Better still, he had been good enough to allow me to take the mission under my most recent false name. The people who killed Leila know who ‘Cedric Rose’ is. ‘Jett Blake’, on the other hand, was just another ronin. A roaming warrior like so many other huntsmen and huntresses who disassociated their services with whatever kingdom issued their license, whether by choice or necessity.

I reached into my shirt pocket and retrieved the slightly battered picture of Leila I kept there. Summer was turning out to look just like her. As if I needed more reminders. I just sat there, staring into the bright blue eyes that I used to get lost in so easily before that life ended. “Where do I go from here, Leila?” I asked the picture. It didn’t answer, of course. I felt my eyes begin to water, saw my vision begin to dampen and blur as the tears threatened to fall. Before they could, however, a voice from just outside the tent snapped me back to the present.

“Huntsman, the other warriors are gathering for a hunt. The Old Wolf sent me to collect you.”

‘Old Wolf’ was a nickname shared amongst the clan for Red Wolf, the Chieftain. I wiped my eyes, blinking back the blurriness as I slipped the picture back into the pocket of my shirt beneath the chestplate of my armor, right over my heart where it belonged. Grabbing Shadowrend, I slipped it into its sheath before pulling my cloak up over my shoulders and drawing my hood over my head. Didn’t take more than two steps before I was at the entrance to the tiny living space of the tent, and I pushed aside the flap. I’d met the tribe warrior who stood there waiting for me a time or two already. “Stone Fox, right?”

“You’re not of this clan. You’re not to use the names gifted us by the Earth-Mother and Sky-Father when speaking to any of us.”

“Red Wolf said—”

“I don’t care what the old man said. Now come. Time to make yourself useful, _huntsman_.”

“So, what am I supposed to call you, then?”

“I do not care. I will probably not answer anyway.”

“Foxy it is, then.” Stone Fox scowled before turning away. I followed through the rings of tents that circled the central meeting place. Red Wolf was standing at the entrance to the large collapsible structure, watching Stone Fox as the young hunter trudged annoyedly on with me a few steps behind. The old warrior nodded at me, and I waved back. Red Wolf had, so far, been the only member of the tribe who’d been more or less accepting of my mission here. I think the other warriors saw my presence as an affront to their resolve to protect the camp at all costs. They were a proud bunch, and I didn’t doubt their determination, but as I pushed through the meeting tent’s flap and saw the paltry dozen or so warriors that had made it through the last grimm attack with only minor wounds, I knew they needed my help much more than they’d admit. None of the ones I’d ask would tell me how bad the hit was, but I already knew; Red Wolf had told me that nearly thirty warriors were killed or too badly wounded to ever carry a weapon again in the desperate fighting.

“Good. Now that you’re all here, have a seat,” Red Wolf said quietly. I began to take a step towards the center of the U-shaped table, to be near the conversation, but Stone Fox stepped in my path and held his hand up.

“Your seat is at the end. Do not mistake your place while you are here.”

“Stone Fox. Jett Blake is our guest, here on my request.”

“But, _Father_ —"

“It’s fine, Red Wolf. Your voice carries well enough,” I interrupted. The Chief nodded after studying my face for a moment. Stone Fox’s expression was one of superiority and dominance at having gotten his way, but I didn’t care what he thought. I didn’t need a spot at the center of the table to show my status. All I needed was to do my job when the time came.

“Very well,” Red Wolf replied, taking a cross-legged seat at the center of the U. “Now. The eastern woods have been hunted to near exhaustion by your tireless efforts. You have all done well while the balance of our warriors who were not killed recover from their wounds. Every day, however, you return with less game, and tell me that you had to travel further to get it. Too many are still wounded for us to attempt a migration to more fruitful lands. We must turn our sights elsewhere. The swamps to the west have not been hunted at all since the attack.”

“But Red Wolf, the west is where the grimm came from. Venturing there invites death,” one of the other hunters whose name I hadn’t yet learned said worriedly.

Stone Fox huffed with indignance. “Your fear shames you, Sleeping Bear. Steel your heart, the Old Wolf is right.”

Red Wolf smiled. “I’m glad you are in an agreeable mood for once today, Stone Fox. Jett Blake is coming with your hunting party this time.”

Stone Fox balked. “He _what_? Red Wolf, you cannot be serious. We do not need him. He will only slow us down and scare away game, clanking about with that heavy armor he wears.”

“Sleeping Bear was right, Stone Fox. The western woods and swamps are more dangerous than the eastern woods. Grimm seem to congregate there for reasons we don’t yet understand, and the Mistral Councilman with whom I spoke assures me our guest is one of the finest he’s ever seen at dispatching the beasts.”

“I care not for the opinions of some Kingdom Politician.”

“He was no mere politician. He was the headmaster of their huntsman academy as well. Jett Blake is a personal friend of his, and both are seasoned warriors.” Hearing Leo referred to in that light was indeed amusing… The guy I’d known as an exchange student from Haven back in my Beacon Days? ‘Seasoned Warrior’? I mean, yeah, Leo was good. ‘Seasoned Warrior’ made him sound old, though. Heck, it made _me_ sound old.

“I still say we don’t need him.”

“I was not asking if you would take him, Stone Fox. I am telling you. We cannot lose any more of our warriors to the grimm.”

Stone Fox growled frustratedly under his breath, before grudgingly resigning. “Very well, Father. But if he slows us down or falls behind on the hunt, do not expect me to waste time searching for his corpse.”

Red Wolf nodded, before turning to me. “Have you anything to add, Huntsman?” I only shook my head.

“At least he knows when to stay silent,” Stone Fox grumbled to one of the other warriors nearest him. I don’t think he knew I could still easily hear his low, recalcitrant murmur from here.

“Good. May the Earth-Mother bless your hunt.” With that, the hunter-warriors rose, and I along with them. Some of them glared at me as they walked past, some didn’t look at me at all, and one or two nodded their acknowledgement.

“Daddy!” I turned at the sound of my daughter’s voice. Summer had peeked her head in underneath the side of the meeting tent, and was beaming ear-to-ear. “I made you something!” After squeezing the rest of the way between he wooden planks of the floor and the canvas side of the large tent, she trotted up to me, and pulled whatever it was out from behind her back. It was a rectangle of small twigs, tied together with bits of grass. Woven into the twigs were brilliant yellow dandelions and a few deep violet thistles. She presented it to me proudly, and I took it as I knelt to be more-or-less at eye level with her.

“It’s beautiful, sweetie. What is it?”

“It’s a frame for that picture you like to look at when you think I’m not watching!” She said excitedly. I froze, looking at the frame. It really was the perfect size… I thought she’d never seen me withdraw the picture of Leila before. I’d certainly never shown it to her. I didn’t know what to say. After an awkward pause as I stared at the frame, unable to respond, she threw her little arms around my neck. I refocused on the moment and hugged her back, trying not to shake as that confusing mix of fatherly adoration and deep, deep sadness that I felt so often around her threw the emotional balance I was trained to maintain into utter chaos.

“Thank you, honey.” I sighed. She already knew about it, so I might as well show her. I pulled the old picture of Leila from our fourth year at Beacon. It was a candid shot, one she told me to delete because she hadn’t been ready and for some reason thought she looked bad in. I’d caught her weaving a pond lily from one of Beacon’s many reflecting pools behind her ear. She’d been singing one of her favorite songs just as I’d whipped my scroll out from beneath my cloak and gotten the shot. Despite how insistently she’d told me to delete it, I’d kept it, even gotten it printed out so I’d always have it on me. “I’ve never shown you this, Summer. You asked me earlier. This was—Is your mommy. Her name is Leila. You look just like her, you know that, sweetie?” Summer was transfixed by the image. I took the frame she’d made and slipped the corners of the picture between the woven branches. “Here,” I said, handing her the picture. “See if you can make a stand for it, alright? That way we can put the picture up in our tent and we can both look at it whenever we want. I have to go for a little while, I’ll be back later this afternoon, okay?”

“Okay…” Summer replied, still staring at the first picture of her mom she’d ever seen. I stood, looking over at Red Wolf.

His look was one of deep understanding, like he could truly sense the depths of my grief, and he smiled kindheartedly. “Go, Jett. The others will be waiting for you by now. I’ll be sure she is looked after while you’re gone.”

“Thank you, Red Wolf.” With that, I turned and strode out the tent flap after the rest of the hunters. They were gathered at the edge of camp. Stone Fox stood in the center of the group, arms crossed over his chest, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Took you long enough,” He shot snidely at me as I reached him. “Already slowing us down. I told the Old Wolf we didn’t need you.”

“We’re waiting on you, now,” I shot back, continuing through and turning to walk backwards past the group and down the trail. “Come on, Foxy. While I’m still young.”

Stone Fox’s disdainful look was enough to elicit a grin from me and one or two of the other hunters. Apparently not all them held the same mindset and disdain for outsiders as Stone Fox, or at the very least they liked it when someone poked holes in his overinflated attitude. Without a word, Stone Fox knocked an arrow to his compound bow and set off at a brisk, silent jog past me, down the worn trail that was the main route down the mountain slope to the west. The rest of the group followed him single-file. The last of them passed me, a woman about my age who didn’t meet my eyes, staring only straight ahead with grim focus and a thousand-yard stare. That was the look of someone who’d been through a lot… I knew it well. As she continued on, I turned and brought up the rear, activating my aura as I did.

The forest was full of life. I could sense the aura of small rodents burrowing beneath the ground, of birds in the trees. It was everywhere… And it only got more noticeable as we reached the foot of the mountain and hit the stream that served as the border of the swampy, dense marshland before us. Here, the bare, pale-grey trunks of trees grew straight from gnarled, knobby root systems up into a matted canopy of leaves and branches so dense that very little light penetrated down into the depths of the forest. Stone Fox signaled the halt of our group, surveying the dense, marshy lowlands before us. After a moment, he turned, and silently gestured to groups of individuals at a time. As he did, those groups turned and wordlessly disappeared into the undergrowth. Teams of three split off, the first skirting the swamp to the south. The second went north, doing the same. Stone Fox then pointed to Sleeping Bear and two other warriors I didn’t know, sending them into the swamp and over to the left, leaving himself, the woman with the dead eyes, and me to take an angling path into the swamp to the right.

Leaping from root complex to root complex at the bases of the packed trees so as not to splash in the ankle-deep bog and scare off potential game, the three of us wound our way deeper and deeper into the marsh. I didn’t know how he planned on tracking anything through this, but he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. A few times, he looked back, probably expecting or hoping to see me falling behind. Each time, he’d only see that I was keeping easily in stride, which would cause him to scowl and pick up the pace. _Sorry to disappoint you, bud,_ I thought with a grin every time. Stone Fox stopped about a kilometer in, examining a spot where the bark had been stripped from a large tree. He looked back, holding his hands up with his thumbs to his temples, like antlers. The woman nodded, readying her spear as he pressed on, pausing to listen a time or two as he did. After maybe fifty meters, we found another spot where the bark had been freshly scraped from the base of the trunk. A buck had been marking the boundary of its territory through here.

Stone Fox held his hands over his mouth and let out a series of deep, bellowing grunts. A deer call. Whatever buck had been in the area would think a rival male had invaded its turf. It didn’t take long before we heard the angry, huffing response from nearby. Stone Fox kept up the call, motioning for the woman to spread out left and for me to hold tight as he pressed forward. He was deliberately leaving me out of the kill. I grinned. It was time to have some fun with this guy. Drawing a pair of my throwing daggers, I kicked off the root system as soon as Stone Fox was out of sight and leapt high, kicking off the trunks back and forth, higher and higher to reach almost the lowest branches of the trees. From up here, I could see Stone Fox picking his way quietly in the direction we’d heard our quarry.  As he moved down at marsh-level, I stayed high, leaping between the close trunks and using my daggers to dig into the bark. He had no idea he was being followed as he slowly picked his way tree-to-tree and closed on the angry deer we were tracking. Finally, I caught sight of the large, branching antlers of the creature as it waded through the ankle-deep marsh towards Stone Fox’s calls. He saw them too, and stopped moving, grunting again to attempt to incite the territorial male deer even more.

As the creature drew nearer, however, I began to feel a gnawing sense in the back of my mind that something wasn’t right. I could sense a presence, but it wasn’t the positive life-force given off by people, animals, and even faintly by plants. It was a negative weight in the ambient life energy of the marsh. A hole, an emptiness. I’d felt that many, many times before. Suddenly, it became very clear to me… Those antlers didn’t belong to any deer. Stone Fox drew back the arrow he’d knocked earlier as he readied to shoot what he thought was a meal for his people, but if I was right, he was in dire danger. I swung to the opposite side of the high trunk I clung to in an effort to get a better look, and my feelings were instantly proven correct the second I saw them: four glowing red eyes piercing the gloom of the marsh like tiny beacons of hatred, deep-set within the characteristic bony, red-marked skull plate of a grimm. It was a type I’d only ever heard of, a ghost story or phantom that some huntsmen tell you they’ve seen, and only about one in a hundred are even speaking the truth: A wendigo. The gaunt, nearly skeletal deer-like grimm was crouched and walking on all fours, clearly making an unsettlingly-conscious effort to move like an actual deer and keep large tree-trunks between itself and the man below, ever careful not to let the hunter know that he was in fact the hunted. I had to do something, and fast.

The whole marsh was shrouded in dense shadows, which worked to my advantage. I saw the woman Stone Fox had sent out to the left down below, out of the line of sight of the creature. She hadn’t realized what it was yet, either. I saw her ready her spear, preparing to leap out and throw the weapon as she believed she had it outflanked. Before she could, I focused on a point in the shadow of the very same tree she hid behind, willing myself to just… _Be_ there. Immediately, I felt a familiar tingling sensation as my body phased in a flurry of rose petals back down to the marsh floor, right behind the woman. I saw her begin to shift her weight into the surprise attack, but I acted faster, hoping she wouldn’t cry out as I swept up from behind and covered her mouth with one hand, staying her spear-arm with the other. She didn’t, and I released my hold quickly, breathing a soundless sigh of relief. Still, she whirled on me angrily. I held up my hands, wordlessly imploring her not to do anything rash, and motioned for her to look cautiously around the tree.

As she eyed me suspiciously, I was afraid she wouldn’t listen. I readied my daggers in case she decided to attack anyway and I had to back her up. Fortunately, after a moment’s indecision, she heeded my advice, carefully peering out from behind the trunk rather than leaping out. I saw her start, heard her gasp… _Crap._ The wendigo _definitely_ would’ve heard that. I pulled her back, not knowing if it’d actually seen her or not. The grunting sounds it was making as it closed in on Stone Fox suddenly became a chilling, almost-human moan, and I heard its clawed forelimbs splash up out of the marsh as it reared, sniffing the air as if it could smell the woman’s spike of fear.

 _Time to go to work,_ I thought.

I flicked one of my throwing knives back to the left of the tree that the woman and I hid behind. It thudded loudly as it stuck into a stump behind the grimm, and the ghastly moan pitched up into a blood-curdling shriek as the beast whirled to find the source of the sound. Drawing Shadowrend, I leapt out to the right of our trunk, getting my first good look at the creature from up close. The monster was easily fifteen feet tall when standing on its hoofed hindquarters. Its antlers branched out from atop the bony skull, a gnarled mess of razor-sharp spikes, upon one of which a human skull was impaled through the eye-socket. Its long, bony fingers ended in keen, spindly claws almost half a meter in length, and three rows of crooked, needle-like fangs lined its long, lipless black maw. I side-armed the other dagger I’d readied as hard as I could, and the blade struck home in the exposed flank of the wendigo’s neck, searing the black flesh as the burn-dust core within a central hollow groove in of the blade activated. Its pained screech was enough to tell me as it whirled back around that I now had its undivided attention.

“I’ll keep it busy, you two get out of here! Find the other hunters, make sure they’re okay!” I called back to the woman. She didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that I’d even said anything. I didn’t have time to find out why. The wendigo charged, swinging itself between tree trunks and in and out of view with horrifying and surprising agility. A last-second shadow step very narrowly saved me from being rent to shreds where I stood as it slung around the closest tree to my left and pounced, its scream like a thousand nails scraping across a chalkboard. I only moved a meter or two, to just inside the monster’s reach, jabbing upward with Shadowrend. The blade was barely able to fit between the narrow-set exposed ribs, but I was able to jam it home, sparing no savagery with the strike. My attack was far less effective than I’d expected it to be though, regardless of the fact that I’d managed to bury the blade almost a foot into the monster’s gaunt chest cavity. As I withdrew the weapon and prepared to use my semblance again to escape, the monster took a quick backstep and backhanded me full in the chest, sending me sailing into a painful ricochet off the side of a tree trunk almost twenty meters distant. I careened into the stagnant swamp water and immediately stood, well aware that my aura had taken a bad hit by the way it slowly crackled back over my arms. This thing was powerful, and fast, and in the back of my mind I knew it would to be very hard to kill without my Light. I felt an uneasy feeling at the thought of tapping it again, deciding then that it would _only_ be an absolute last resort. Looking back up to my enemy, I saw the woman standing ankle-deep in the swamp with her spear raised, confronting it head on. More guts than sense, this girl.

I focused yet again and shadow-stepped back into the fight, instantaneously regaining the distance the wendigo had knocked me back, and placing myself between the woman and the monstrous grimm. “What did I say, lady? Let me handle this. Find Stone Fox and _get out of here_.”

“We can fight too, huntsman!” She protested.

“Not this thing, you can’t,” I shot back as I dodged flurry of clawed strikes and the grimm backed me up towards her. The creature sprung, its jaws snapping at the air where I’d been. I somersaulted back and hurled three more daggers for its head. One dinked off its armored skull plate and splashed into the muck. The second impaled the grimm through its lower jaw, pinning its tongue to its mouth as it issued yet another screeching roar. The third found its mark and stuck fast in one of the quadruple eyes of the beast. If I thought its cry from earlier was enough to set teeth on edge and turn even the stoutest hearts, the scream of rage that proceeded from the grimm’s jaws as it reared and tore the knife from its eye socket could was the very definition of fear itself. The woman stood her ground beside me, but I realized then that it wasn’t bravery. She was paralyzed with fear… Fear the beast recognized as it lunged not at me, but at her. She would’ve been swallowed whole if I hadn’t tackled her and shadow-stepped out of harm’s way. I felt the taxing effect of using my semblance to move both my body and hers into the nearest safe pool of shadow, and the monster’s jaws shredded the hem of my cloak from the slower shadow-step I was forced to take. Fortunately, all it had for its effort was a mouthful of petals as it whirled to see where we’d gone. We had retreated back behind a fallen stump out of its view, and I took the woman by the shoulders, shaking her. “Listen to me. If you’re not gonna run, then stay here. I’ll have a better chance if you stay hidden and I can focus on the grimm.” She nodded feebly, her senses returning, and I somersaulted into view to get the attention of the wendigo as it sniffed us out.

Once again, I focused my aura into my legs and jumped from tree-trunk to tree-trunk, trying to get an elevation advantage on the grimm. Rather than stay down in the bog and pace like a beowolf or an ursa would do, however, the wendigo wasted no time in following my rebounding path into the high branches of the trees. It snapped again and again at my heels, closer and closer every time. I had to rethink my strategy, almost literally on-the-fly. Suddenly, an idea occurred to me. We were already almost thirty meters up. I slowed my pace, letting the grimm think it had me, allowing it to close the distance until the last possible moment. A second late on this gamble and I would’ve been demon deer-food, but I timed it perfectly. As I pushed off from one of the two trunks I’d been leaping between, l broke Shadowrend down to its shotgun form and fired straight downward, redirecting myself in midair with the recoil of the shot. Instead of straight into the grimm’s jaws, I sailed over its head, grabbing the end of one of its antlers as it leapt the opposite way. The wendigo grunted in surprise, and I heaved all my bodyweight and inertia into the grapple, halting the grimm’s trajectory. We seemed to hang in the air for a moment, but it was only just a moment as the monster began to barrel towards the ground with me still clinging to its antler. It roared as it fell, helplessly out of reach of any trunks or branches to arrest its momentum. “Should’ve worked on your landing strategy!” I taunted, swinging myself behind its head and riding its back all the way down, shadow-stepping at the last moment to appear safely behind a nearby tree.

I heard a resounding _SNAP_ as the monster smashed into a mess of roots and rolled into the mire, and its bellowing roar of pain as it tore itself free of the many broken roots that had impaled its flank becoming a screech of rabid rage as it swung back to face me. I charged back in, I noticing that its hip was dislocated and the black flesh on its haunch was shredded. Pieces of tree-root and snapped bone stuck out randomly from the surreal glowing red muscle structure underneath its tautly-stretched skin. To my chagrin, however, the injury was only barely slowed down as it hobbled with singular focus towards me, as if the wound meant nothing to it. _What_ was it gonna take to _kill_ this thing?

As I re-engaged and rolled left under another strike from the beast, I reloaded Shadowrend’s twin barrels, slamming home two more bright red shells I’d loaded with high-explosive burn dust and, ironically, triple-aught buckshot. The second it turned back, its screeching maw opened and… _BLA-BLAAAM!_ I emptied both barrels down the reeking gullet of the monster from point-blank range. It staggered back, the corpse-like black tendons and muscles that held its lower jaw to the skull-plate torn away and the joints dislocated from the impact of the brutal double-tap spread. Its jaw now hung loosely, barely dangling from the creature’s head as it turned back and paced outside of my shotgun’s effective range and I reloaded. Black blood poured from the wounds and evaporated before it hit the marshy water. The sounds proceeding from its throat were hateful, pained grunts and groans. I thought I’d finally critically wounded it. It still had its claws, but its ability to snap and bite was now gone. As it stared me down, however, the two forelimbs reached up, grabbing and snapping its own jaw back into place. The black chomping muscles immediately knit themselves back together in a flash of red light, and the roof of its mouth and obliterated tongue ceased bleeding. The burning glow of a new eye lit like an orb of orange fire in the socket that had been dim since I’d thrown that dagger earlier. The beast had a regenerative ability, I realized as the monster’s hip snapped back into place and its leg straightened. I couldn’t do enough damage fast enough to kill it. Not without… _Dammit._ I had no other choice. As it worked its jaw back and forth, seating it back in line, it crouched, ready for a final pounce.

I didn’t want to tap my Light. Ever since Eneas’ landing, I’d been too afraid to use it. I’d killed so many of those robed men and women. It wasn’t the mere fact that I’d killed them that bothered me, but the thought of _how_ they’d met their end… Of the blood like rivers from the thirty, almost forty bodies piled and sprawled around my old home as it burned. It was a state of berserk rage I never wanted to revisit, an unstoppable surge of murderous intent brought about by what they’d done. I’d given in, throwing aside discipline and calm for rage and grief that had caused me to go utterly blood-drunk. I’d utterly lost myself to it, just along for the ride while I cut them all down. If that happened again… No. It _wouldn’t_ happen again. I _would_ control my abilities… I didn’t have any other choice. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes, standing straight with my weapon’s haft clenched vertically in front of me, assuming no fighter’s stance. Waiting, and concentrating. I had to control it. I only needed a fraction of my power here.

“What are you _doing_ , Huntsman?” The woman called from the cover of that nearby fallen tree.

“Cover your eyes. _Now_.” I commanded simply. I could feel, rather than see, the wendigo charging me. As I reached down into the depths of my soul, I felt my Light answer, like an old friend, happy to finally be called on to help. It welled up from within me, and I felt the deepest sense of focus imaginable flowed through my senses. Before the whole of that energy could fill my being, however, I willed it to stop, like I were shutting off the tap to the near-infinite source of immense power. It was only me, and my prey. I was a huntsman. I was a warrior. I was in control. The monster lunged, and my eyes flew open.

The screeches of rage from the wendigo took on another quality entirely as the dim gloom of the marsh was suddenly blasted with radiant white Light, the manifestation of thousands of years of warrior might and generations of skill that had lay dormant in my soul for so long. It was not the surge of violent and terrible power I knew I was capable of, rather a purposeful and measured tapping of the boundless potential within, released only for this single, capable foe. I could feel the grimm’s sudden fear, sense its cunning and evil mind flush with panic as it realized what I was, and that it had just delivered itself to its own end. Shadowrend’s blade reflected my eyes coldly as the initial flash abated, and I twisted easily to the side of the wendigo’s jaws as they shut on empty air. My glaive flashed into a spin, cleaving the bony right arm from the creature’s shoulder like a hot knife slices butter, and following up the whirling slash by hamstringing the creature’s right leg as it passed. Its leap became a stumble as it careened into the muck, screeching in fear and agony again as it tried in vain to stand. The beast looked back, but I wasn’t there anymore.

My next shadow-step took me around to the grimm’s blind-side as it craned its neck around in a desperate bid to find where I’d gone. I planted a booted kick into its flank, the measured release of my power still enough to multiply my strength tenfold and send the beleaguered monster skidding through the swamp. I was on it in a split-second, before it could recover, and my blade whirled once in my hand. The cut whispered through its gaunt abdomen like the flesh wasn’t even there, gutting the grimm down to its spine as it lay on its back. It screeched, swatting frantically out at me with its remaining arm. I dodged back easily, but it threw a hoofed kick that caught my shoulder knocked me back even further. I didn’t feel the powerful, desperate strike, but it was enough to rattle my focus as my already-weakened aura flickered yet again. Before I could re-distribute my protective field and shadow-step back in to finish the beast off, it scrambled to its feet and retreated, the haunting screeches and moans dying as it disappeared into the depths of the marsh to the west. A less-tempered mind would’ve given chase, but I did not. It had gotten away, and given its regenerative ability it would be back, but I’d be waiting for it. It’d seen what I was… If it was smart it would bring every grimm in these woods with it next time.

Quietly, I wondered if that was the right call, but the warrior spirit within me pushed the thought aside. I stood there for a moment, allowing my mind to clear and recalling the Light to its place deep within the essence of my soul. I’d need it again, and soon, I knew. The woman stepped out from behind the log she’d been concealed behind and ran up to me, staring as the last of the silvery glow flickered out and my eyes returned to normal. “What… What was that? How did you…”

“It got away. The village is in danger,” I said simply.

Just then, Stone Fox charged in through the trees. I wonder how much he’d seen. “What are you doing here?” The hunter-warrior’s leader growled. “I told you to stay back there, we could’ve handled that.”

“No, we couldn’t have, Stone Fox,” the woman said, grabbing him by the arm as he strode towards me. You didn’t see it. The beast was… It was like the one I saw just outside the border of the camp during the attack. The one that killed…” She stopped, just for a moment, before speaking again. “The one you said couldn’t really exist.”

“I saw it. Very well, I was wrong. You and Celann really did see what you said you did. We still didn’t need this outsider’s help.”

“Will you put aside that stupid pride of yours for a moment and listen? That thing would’ve slaughtered you, Utae. The huntsman took out one of its eyes, stabbed it through the chest, made it fall from the treetops, shot it point-blank in the mouth with his shotgun, and it only regenerated. All _you_ had was a bow and that little knife.”

Stone Fox turned to me suspiciously. “Then how did _you_ defeat it? Your fancy weapon was obviously useless. What is Kyrin leaving out?”

“That is none of your concern,” I said calmly. Looking over to the woman, I sighed. “So, your name is Kyrin?”

She nodded. “That is my birth name, yes. As hunter-warrior, my given name is Swift Hawk.”

I shook my head. “Yeah, and you were about to be swiftly dead. Were you _trying_ to get yourself killed?”

“I… No, it—it knocked you back, swatted you like… Like nothing. I thought a hit like that would’ve killed you. I thought I had no other choice.”

“You clearly haven’t been around a lot of huntsmen. We’re a little harder to kill than that,” I said.

“Only the line of tribal chieftains is trained in the use of aura for fighting,” she replied defensively.

I looked at her with confusion. “You mean… Wait, _what?_ None of you can use aura or have semblances besides Red Wolf? _Why_?”

“That is none of _your_ concern,” Stone Fox growled, mimicking my answer to his question earlier.

Kyrin ignored him. “You might not understand it, outsider, but it’s tradition. The Chieftains… They’re seen as the clan protectors, the best of us. That’s the way it’s always been, and we’ve never incurred the wrath of the gods like we did a few weeks ago before. Perhaps in hindsight we would’ve fared better if we all had abilities like yours, but… I’ve known nothing but peace my whole life. I’ve never even seen aura used in battle before… Before the attack. Even then, it didn’t do Celann any good. That grimm. We saw it during the attack, sitting back by the boundary of our camp and just… Watching.”

“Watching? Not going after villagers?” I asked. Kyrin nodded her confirmation. I nodded. “That makes sense. That means it was a coordinate.”

“Coordinate?” Stone Fox asked.

“Alpha. King, Queen, Major, Primus, whatever. A grimm that’s a lot smarter, stronger, and older than the masses, and can direct the others. What happened after that? After you saw it?”

“We attacked. There were very few grimm left in the camp by that time. We were afraid this one would move in and finish us off. I… That’s why…”

“Why what?”

“I watched it tear him apart. That’s why it scared me so when I first saw it. That’s why I froze. I’m sorry you had to risk your life to save mine.”

“That’s my job, Kyrin. You needn’t apologize. Who… Who was this ‘Celann’?” I asked. Kyrin looked down. I was all too familiar with a grieving person’s response to a question they didn’t want to answer, and suddenly regretted prying too deeply.

“He was the Old Wolf’s son, my elder brother,” Stone Fox muttered at me, ignoring her pained silence. “In line to be the next Chief… And Kyrin’s husband.” Kyrin winced as Stone Fox revealed the answer to the question I shouldn’t have asked in the first place.

“I…” I started to say, looking back at the woman. “I’m sorry.” Those two words felt so shallow. I’d heard them so many times from friends I’d run into while on the run with Summer. This woman and I both knew a pain that ‘I’m sorry’ just didn’t do anything to help heal. “Really. Really, I am, Kyrin.” She just looked away.

Stone Fox didn’t shut his mouth, continuing on irreverently about his fallen brother. “The elders gave him the name ‘Great Eagle’ at his coming of age. Hmph. Great Eagle or not, didn’t stop him from being slaughtered, just like so many others. Celann wasting his life like that shattered my father’s will, and he called you in. He lost is faith in our people. We—” A distant roar caused my ears to perk up, and I put my hand out to stop Stone Fox mid-sentence.

“Listen.”

“I did not hear anything,” Stone Fox protested annoyedly.

“Yeah well, I did. Shut up, would you?” I heard it again, echoing through the trees. Unmistakably chilling, overlapping, bellowing roars and calls. Something big, or rather a lot of somethings, heading straight for us. That wendigo must’ve called some backup. “We need to get out of here. Do you have a way to call back the other hunting parties?”

“No. We have to find them ourselves.”

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” Kyrin suggested.

“No chance. That wendigo screeched enough to call every grimm inside of twenty kilometers, and it got away. I can already hear the first wave, and I’d bet anything it’s rallying more right now, especially if it really is a grimm coordinate. Grimm can sense the summons of a coordinate from a long way off, and their hearing is far better than Stone Fox’s.” The Chief’s younger son glared at me.

“It’s our _only_ chance,” the stubborn woman shot back. “The village is vulnerable right now. What if the grimm blow past our hunting parties? There’ll be no one to protect the ones who can’t fight for themselves.” I sighed exasperatedly.

“ _Fine._ I’ll be quick and find the group that went—”

“No, they’ll need you back at camp _now_ , Jett Blake. I saw what you’re capable of. Your abilities, and… I’d feel a lot better knowing my son and the others have you as the last line of defense.” Her lilac eyes had in them a familiar-looking stubborn glint that I’d seen many times before, in another life.

“Alright.” I conceded. “Be safe, Kyrin. You too, I guess,” I added to Stone Fox, who looked from Swift Hawk to me and back.

“Are you sure about this, Kyrin? Trusting our people to _him_?” He asked.

“Absolutely. He’s worth every one of us fifty times over in a fight. If you don’t trust him yet, then trust _me._ Now… I’m faster than you. You go find the group that went north. I’ll track down Sleeping Bear’s group, then swing south to find Wild Boar’s. We’ll all meet up at camp as quickly as we can to back up the huntsman, after that.”

“Very well,” Stone Fox finally replied. “Earth-Mother guide you.”

“Sky-Father protect you,” Kyrin finished. The two of them hit their forearms together in a tribal warrior salute of sorts and with that, they vanished to the north and south, desperation giving speed to their footing as they went off in search of the other hunting parties. I could still hear the chorus of evil roars, drawing ever closer from the depths of the swamp. I didn’t have time to retrieve any of my daggers besides the one I’d retained, instead setting off instead as quickly as I could back to the east, knowing that should I fail to protect the camp, many lives were in grave danger from the evil we’d stirred in these woods.

Including Summer’s.

 


	3. A Warrior's Rage

**Chapter Three: A Warrior’s Rage**

“Jett Blake?” Red Wolf raised a questioning eyebrow as I sprinted back into camp as fast as I could manage. He had been sitting cross-legged before an ancient-looking oak tree near his tent, apparently deep in meditation as I approached. “Has something gone wrong?”

“You could say that, yeah. You need to get your people into the central tent. _Now._ They’ll be easier to protect if they’re all in the same place.”

“What do you m—”

“There’s _NO_ time, Chieftain! _Go._ Gather your people, I’ll hold whatever comes at the edge of camp. Once that’s done, stay there and protect them. If they get through me, you’ll be all they have left until Stone Fox and Swift Hawk can gather the other warriors.”

“Very well.” He seemed to understand as much as he needed to, leaping to his feet and activating his aura as he did. It wasn’t a subtle crackle like mine or any other aura I’d seen in the past, rather a brilliant red flash that emanated from his outline for a moment before abating. Had I not been in such a rush to get back out the perimeter of the camp, I would’ve stopped to wonder at the strange intensity with which his aura had seemed to manifest itself. That was going to have to be a question for a later time however. Right now, all that mattered was that the people survived this coming attack. I had to focus now on granting the Old Wolf as much time as possible.

The growls and roars that I’d heard in the distance behind me as I’d run back to the encampment now grew louder and louder as I now sprinted back to the western camp boundary. As I reached the tree line, I saw the first of them… A beringel. Not a silverback, thankfully, but it was still followed by its whole troop, eleven more of the massive gorilla-like beasts that burst through the undergrowth right behind it, followed closely by several beowolves and an enormous ursa, probably only a few years shy of being large enough to be considered a Major. Eighteen grimm in total, and that was just the first wave. I stared into each set of soulless red eyes. The grimm paced, glaring and snarling aggressively back at me, but loath to attack as if aware that I was the reason the wendigo had summoned them from the depths of the wilds in the first place.

They began to surround me, slowly fanning out to my flanks. I knew that if they passed me and I lost track of any of them, it would leave the tribespeople open to strays that broke from the impending fight. I had to act now and kill them quickly. Once again, I shut my eyes and concentrated, calling forth my Light in a measured amount to deal with the first line of creatures. I heard the screeches and growls of fear from several of the older grimm in the group as if they could feel the energy borne forth on my aura even before my eyes opened. There was no blinding flash of light this time, more just a surreal glow in my irises like the hottest embers at the bottom of a silver fire that caused a few of the beasts to step back tentatively.

A younger beowolf that didn’t seem to understand the sudden temperance of its more experienced elders decided to charge me. I turned casually, locking eyes with the minor grimm as it did so. It didn’t need to understand what I was, nor the threat I or my kind posed to it. All it did understand was that its legs stopped working mid-stride and it stumbled, paralyzed with fear as it skidded to a helpless stop at my feet. A simple swipe of Shadowrend clove its head from its body even as it tried to whimper through its frozen vocal chords. “Next?” I asked the remaining monsters in the first wave.

The only answer I got was the roar of the ursa as it signaled a charge, as if hoping to overwhelm me with a concentrated attack. _Not gonna happen_ , I thought as the beasts all either leapt towards me or dropped to all fours and stormed forward. I grinned at the assortment of confused grunts and growls I heard behind me as I shadow-stepped right through the advance, appearing to the rear of the befuddled bunch of grimm. That move never got old. I reversed direction back into the melee before the monsters could figure out where I’d gone, and inside of a second, Shadowrend was smashing apart bony plates like chalk and wending through tough, black hide like wet paper. I lost myself to the dance, one with my weapon as every breath, every thump of my pulse in my neck provided the beat to which I moved. Grimm began to vaporize into clouds of black soot, final roars of pain and surprise echoing across the mountainside one after another. Desperate teeth snapped, claws slashed, fists like black iron boulders swung, but none so much as grazed me as I decimated this first unfortunate group of grimm.

The last to die was that ursa which, after seeing the assortment of powerful monsters it had arrived with dispatched so effortlessly, tried futilely to turn and run. I watched it go, and as it reached the tree line it looked back to make sure I wasn’t in pursuit. Just as it perceived that I hadn’t given chase, I shadow stepped, vanishing into thin air in a burst of ebony rose petals. I reappeared directly in front of the ursa as it gave a cry of dismay and surprise at my disappearance; and just as the beast whirled back around to continue its terror-driven retreat I cut that cry short. Before it had time to react to the realization that I was now right in front of it, I jammed Shadowrend into the roof of its mouth so hard that the end of the blade cracked right through the heavy, bony skullplate from beneath. I held my position as the corpse vaporized and blew away into oblivion on the breeze, listening for more danger approaching. I wasn’t disappointed. More roars, shrieks, and bellowing moans echoed eerily from nearer the foot of the mountain. I was pretty sure I could pick out the sound of the wendigo’s trademark semi-human scream in the cacophony of horrible sounds, too. I didn’t have much time before this much larger group of grimm was upon me.

I decided not to wait for to come to me. Just as I was about to step off down the mountain to meet them, however, I heard a voice in my head. Red Wolf.

_“Jett Blake, the people are gathered in the central tent as you asked.”_

“Whoa, whoa, how the…” I stopped cold, having not expected the sound of the old chieftain’s voice in my mind. “Red Wolf?”

_“Yes. One of my semblances allows for telepathic communication with almost anyone I choose.”_

“ _Ohhkay_. Warn me next time you’re gonna do that.”

_“How would I—”_

“Never mind. And I’m gonna pretend I didn’t notice the fact that you just said ‘ _one of_ ’ your semblances. Is Summer there?”

_“She is. The village medicine-woman is taking care of her and several of the other Hunter-Warrior’s children. The people could hear the grimm. They are frightened.”_

“They’ve got good reason to be, but tell them not to worry. That first group didn’t end up being much of a problem. Nothing more than scouts. The real fight is at the foot of the mountain and coming this way in a hurry. I’m taking the fight to them.”

_“What of Stone-Fox and the others?”_

“I haven’t seen your son or any of the other warriors yet. I’ll send them straight back to you as soon as I find them, though.”

_“Very well.”_

“And Red Wolf?” I added after beginning my jaunt downhill to the fearsome-sounding horde of grimm that approached.

_“Yes?”_

“Your people have seen enough. Call out to me if anything manages to get past and I will return as fast as I can. Do not come to my aide, though. No matter what you see or hear looking down the mountain. There’s a possibility I may…”

_“May… What?”_

“Never mind. Just do not come to help me.”

Red Wolf didn’t reply right away. When he did, his words were simple. “ _Earth-Mother guide you, Jett Blake._ ”

“And Sky-Father protect you, Old Wolf,” I replied. I didn’t know why I said that. I didn’t know the first thing about these people’s belief system. It just felt like the right thing to say as I burst into a clearing near the base of the mountain. Just across the field, a familiar gaunt, lanky form turned in response to the sound of the rustling brush I had sprinted through. The wendigo glared at me, fully healed from our last encounter only minutes before. I could practically sense its vile confidence as the small army it had gathered to itself broke into the open on either side of the coordinate grimm.

Dozens of ursai, beringel, boarbatusk, creeps, beowolves, and even a few deathstalkers formed a nearly unbroken line of red eyes and teeth that growled and hissed threateningly at the lone silver-eyed warrior blocking their path. This pack was six or seven times the size of the one I’d just taken out, and that was just the monsters I could see. I was utterly sure by the immense malignant presence I could feel that still more lurked out of view within the dense forest, awaiting the wendigo’s call to come forward. I looked back to the coordinate, and the wendigo’s four evil red eyes looked right back at me, as if daring me to make the next move. Before I could, however, it broke eye contact and lifted its snout, sniffing intently. Grimm don’t grin, but all the same I could’ve sworn that’s exactly what the creature was doing just then as it looked back to its subordinates. It gave a series of grunts and barking calls, and the pack split, ignoring me entirely on the orders of their alpha and skirting the edge of the clearing, charging up the mountain towards the encampment. The wendigo had sensed the fear of the villagers.

I was about to turn and give chase, but another screech from the wendigo brought my attention back to the tree line. From the brush on the opposite side of the clearing, I heard a high-pitched chattering sound ripple through the second wave of grimm that I hadn’t even seen yet. I didn’t have to wait long to see what was making the sound. Hundreds of housecat-sized black shapes, a swarm of grimm vermin, surged through the undergrowth and out into the clearing towards me. I’d seen these things in ones and twos in the sewers and cesspits of the world in my travels, but never this many. The relatively tiny grimm were best likened to gigantic black bloodthirsty rats, and this horde swept across the ground with vicious focus like a wave of razor-sharp incisors and plague-ridden claws.

I began to backpedal, breaking Shadowrend down to its shotgun form and firing wildly into the incoming wave with double-barreled blasts that took out perhaps five or ten of the little beasts each. Inevitably, however, each vermin I killed was only replaced by dozens more as they scrambled over and past each other, each hoping to be the first to taste blood. I was running out of ammo, but more importantly, I was running out of time. I took my eyes from the swarm for a moment just long enough to see the massive group of larger grimm charging out of sight through the trees. They’d be at the camp in barely a minute if I didn’t head them off. That moment I took was a moment too long, though. The first of the vermin leapt in, snarling and snapping as they clawed up my legs and back, gnawing on armor and trying to bite through my aura. I was able to kick and throw a few to the ground, but the swarm’s speed and tenacity caught me off guard and I was quickly overwhelmed. I couldn’t focus on any particular shadow to step out of harm’s way as more and more of them leapt in, and I could feel my aura draining from tiny nips and scratches all over my body as the vermin tide washed over me. Every attempt at a step I took to get out of the mass of flailing teeth and claws was nearly a fatal stumble. If I didn’t do _something,_ these things would wear me down and tear me apart in seconds.

My weapon was useless from inside the swarm. One of the vermin that had scurried up my back buried its twin fangs into the base of my neck. I felt my aura give completely for the first time and the close-set twin fangs sank into the muscle there. I grabbed the little creature by its head and ripped it free before it could nick an artery and cause a fatal injury, snapping its neck easily as I flung it away. But the swarm could smell the warm blood that welled from the wound. I could sense their attacks become even more frenzied. Nips and scratches began to break through my aura all over my body anywhere that wasn’t covered by steel plate armor. I could feel cuts and gashes torn open here and there at an alarming rate, and the blood that ran from the injuries only served to further intensify the vermin’s attacks.

I dropped to one knee as a vermin tore into the exposed back of my leg above my left greave, the pain beginning to take its toll on my resolve to keep fighting. I stopped slashing hopelessly with Shadowrend, and some part of the back of my mind perceived the wendigo’s victorious call as it saw me collapse. I could vaguely hear Red Wolf’s voice in my head.

 _“Huntsman? Huntsman, they’re coming. I can hear many grimm heading this way…”_ I didn’t answer him. Another vermin gashed my face with its claws and shredded my ear with its teeth, and I didn’t even move. My mind was blank. _“Jett Blake? Can you hear me? We need you. Your daughter needs you.”_

My daughter.

Summer.

Am I giving up? Something began to build in me at the thought. The image of my infant daughter in the arms of the man who killed Leila appeared in my head, and a rage I hadn’t known in years railed within me at the very thought. A fearful, terrible force that rose from the depths of my being and flowed through my veins, crashing against the internal barriers I’d built within myself to protect against that terrifying loss of control. I didn’t have the will to stop it anymore. “Rrrr _rrRRRRAAAAAAGGGHHH_!!!” My battle cry echoed across the valley as those barriers failed, and my eyes opened despite the stinging flow of blood that had forced them closed in the first place. The pain gave me strength as the harsh silver flames that erupted from my soul shone through the mass of vermin that had swarmed me. I heard the terrified shrieks of the rat grimm as that Light was released in a wave that utterly obliterated every single one within twenty meters.

The wendigo’s triumphant bellow gave way to a surprised and mortified screech as it tried in vain to raise its forearm and block the unexpected flash of my Light. The desperate attempt to save itself was too slow and the monster froze, unable to move as fear paralyzed its movements. The few remaining vermin that weren’t completely destroyed by the initial violent release of energy from my shimmering silver form now had a few moments to feel their skin sizzle and crack as I stood and stared them down, each bursting into puffs of soot one after another under my rage-focused gaze as they tried to retreat. I didn’t waste time on the wendigo. It wasn’t going anywhere. Instead, I turned and focused on the stark shadows that were cast by the trees from the blazing silver glare in my eyes. I could shadow step further and faster than I ever could normally, with no notable drain on what little was left of my aura either. Within moments, I had reached the camp, just as the first of the grimm stampede burst from the trees. Red Wolf had been standing between them and the central tent, grim resolve etched into his features, but his face turned to mine as I appeared and I saw that resolute look become one of surprise that dared not become hope that his people would survive.

I roared with the fury of the thousand warriors of my kind that preceded me and charged the closest grimm to the main tent. The deathstalker hissed its dismay and turned, desperately jabbing its golden stinger towards me as I flashed forward. Shifting my weight to the left was enough to narrowly dodge what I perceived as a slow-motion strike, and I grabbed the end of the creature’s armored tail with my right hand, crushing the penultimate bony segment of its tail like a soda can and wrenching the stinger free from the monster’s body with a single flick of the wrist. The unyielding power and speed with which I moved stalled the grimm’s advance as I flung the stinger like one of my daggers, knocking the head off a beowolf unfortunate enough to find itself in the trajectory of the throw. A spinning slice of Shadowrend clove the deathstalker’s right pincer from its body, and I somersaulted to within the grasp of its left only to drive one end of my glaive straight through the thick, osseous face of the scorpion-grimm. Its mandibles clicked and twitched once before the monster slumped and began to dissipate. I was already on to the next monster before it had, effortlessly leaping from kill to kill in a hate-fueled spree.

This wasn’t a dance, like the earlier measured release of power had been. This was force, brutal and remorseless. I flayed a taijitu down its entire flank as it attempted to coil around me, bursting from the scaly corpse as it evaporated and viciously charging whatever so much as twitched in my line of sight. Lesser grimm didn’t even move as I blew through their ranks, grappling, sundering, and annihilating creature after creature. There were eight dozen, then seven, now six… I could feel their desperation as they kept coming. Shadowrend’s barrels grew hot as I expended the rest of my shotgun shells in a rapid-fire hail, burning my hands even through the leather-wrapped grips. The added pain only fed my power as I continued my rampage. After a few more moments I became aware of a presence beside me, a positive force in the evil that pervaded the forest’s edge. Red Wolf. He too leapt from grimm to grimm, war axe held high in his right hand whilst wielding a long, straight dagger backhanded in the other. Grimm began to charge him, as if they knew they had no hope against me.

“What are you doing here, old man? Get _OUT_ of my _WAY_!!!” I yelled. The part of my mind that was just along for the ride called out with a more temperate tone. _“Chief! Get out of here! Pick off stragglers and strays, I’ll take care of the horde.”_

 _“And let you have all the fun, Huntsman? I may be old, but I can still fight.”_ He twisted under a strike from a beringel as he replied with his mind, his dagger slicing deeply into the unarmored armpit of the grimm as he turned and buried his axe into an exposed chink on its shoulder. The beringel roared, its right arm rendered useless with its anterior tendons severed. Red Wolf swung himself onto its back with the agility of a man many years his younger and jammed the foot-long blade deeply into its neck, twisting the knife deeper as he hooked the war axe’s elongated beard around the monster’s throat with his opposite hand. The beringel flailed about with its left arm to no avail for a time before swaying and finally collapsing to the ground, evaporating as Red Wolf rolled from the dying grimm’s back. He was on to the next monster that rushed him within moments, his own chilling war cry echoing through the grimm that now surrounded him.

He wouldn’t be dissuaded, and the grimm were still far too numerous. That rational part of my mind, trapped and suppressed by my blood-soaked rage as it was, pleaded with Red Wolf. _“Listen, Chieftain. This is what I was telling you might happen to me. I CANNOT protect you. When my Light takes over like this, the only thing my mind knows to do is kill. There is no controlling it.”_

 _“And I accept that risk, Huntsman.”_ Red Wolf paused in his response long enough to bury the extendable backspike of his war axe into the skull plate of a beowolf, before continuing. _“I have never felt power like yours before, Jett Blake. Nor have I seen it brought to bear against the grimm with such sheer ferocity. I can feel the depths of the grief that gave rise to that rage, but moreover I can feel it draining your life, and fast. I will stay by your side through this fight of my own accord. I feel it is you that will need protecting before long.”_

 _“I hope you know what you’re doing, Chief,”_ I replied, leaping high over a beringel and stabbing down through the base of its neck, through its chest cavity and out it stomach, pinning it to the ground briefly before it vaporized and I moved to the next kill. Deep down, I was thankful to have the help, though the berserk warrior I had become would never admit it.

As the two of us slashed, hacked, and stabbed our way through creature after relentless creature, I saw several of the monsters break off from the group and head straight for the tent. Red Wolf began trying to battle his way after them, but his path was blocked by a king taijitu and he was forced to dodge away. _“Jett Blake! My people! The grimm are headed for the tent!_ ”

 _“I TOLD you, Chief. I CAN’T control myself right now,_ ” my mind responded as my body continued to tear through the mass of grimm from the forest.

“Oh, I think you can! Remember who you _are._ Remember your Daughter!” I hadn’t expected the palm-strike Red Wolf delivered to my forehead as I angrily whirled on him. My mind was rattled as a wave of strange, calming energy washed through my senses. _Daughter. Summer._ The silver light faded from my irises as I held as tightly as I could to the fleeting sense of clarity the Chieftain’s strike had somehow afforded me, right in the middle of the melee. He nodded for me to go, and I hit my forearm into his, the way I’d seen Kyrin and Stone Fox do back in the marsh. He turned and charged back into the fray, taking my place against the horde, and I shadow-stepped out of the fight and into the darkness just inside the front entrance flap of the central tent itself. I saw the townspeople gathered in the middle of the space, clutching each other, comforting one another. Elders, wounded men and women, children. I saw their eyes turn to me as I appeared, hope mingling with that fear at the thought that they might be saved from the beasts just outside.

“Daddy!” Summer’s voice. I saw her there, in the midst of the crowd. She pulled free from the arms of the old woman who tried to hold her back and ran to me, picture frame in hand. “Here. You need mommy more than I do right now.” She pulled the picture from the little rectangle of twigs and mountain flowers and reached up to hand it to me. I knelt, taking the picture from her, even as the roars grew ever louder and the stray grimm reached the tent. The encouraging little look on her face reminded me so much of my Leila. I was utterly transfixed by the resemblance, in fact. I couldn’t move, not until Summer rested her head on my chestplate before looking up and smiling. “Go get the monsters, daddy,” she said simply. Her words echoed in my mind. For a moment I couldn’t tell if I was hearing my daughter’s voice or my wife’s.

I jammed the picture into the pocket beneath my breastplate and roared, eyes reigniting and illuminating the entire interior of the tent as I whirled and stabbed my glaive through the tent flap, right into the maw of a grimm just outside. The alpha beowolf that had been almost able to taste the fear of the tribespeople within now tasted only steel as I yanked the blade from its gullet and decapitated it, right in front of my little girl as the front canvas of the tent was rent asunder by the power of my swing. The paltry dozen or so strays from the main pack that had charged the helpless tribespeople stopped cold, not expecting to see me emerge from the tent when they had just seen me locked in battle behind them moments before. I pressed my attack with ruthless, bitter efficiency, silver tears mingling with blood and staining my face clear down to my chin. They had endangered my little girl. The only piece of Leila I had left. They were _ALL_ going to die for that.

Shadowrend wended through the stray grimm easily. With my off-hand, I caught a boarbatusk that tried to roll past me by the tusk. Using its own momentum, I swung it around an flung it like an angry, squealing boulder straight into a silverback beringel that had hurled itself from a treetop towards me. The two grimm collided and dropped in a pile to the ground, and I shadow stepped between them, slicing the beringel’s throat and pinning the boarbatusk to the ground through its skull.

I was vaguely aware that Red Wolf was being overrun, but my rage had returned, stronger than ever. My only thought was to kill everything in front of me as I charged from the soot of my two most recent kills. I couldn’t force myself to go help him, even after I saw an alpha creep swat him clear into that old oak tree by his tent with a single swipe of its heavy armored tail. He slumped to the ground, dazed as his bright red aura rippled. Another alpha beowolf was charging him, eager to finish off the old warrior.

Just as the massive wolf-like grimm pounced, a familiar-looking spear flashed into view from the trees to my right. It sailed in one ear and out the other of the alpha, and the creature fell, skidding to a stop dead at Red Wolf’s feet. Kyrin lead the charge of the hunter-warriors as they burst from the tree line, each screaming their battle cries as they charged the remaining grimm. Arrow after arrow zipped from a treetop at the edge of the encampment… Stone Fox’s decidedly impressive aim taking out two more creeps and wounding a boarbatusk that Sleeping Bear finished off with a downward smash of his heavy war club. I saw Kyrin survey the battle. Her eyes locked with mine for a moment as I swept through the remaining grimm, one after another. Something about her gaze sent another calming wave through my mind like a cool breeze, but she broke eye contact to deal with a beringel alongside two other warriors. That fleeting interruption of my uncontrollable wrath was naught but another quick breath of fresh air for the deepest parts of my soul as they were again shoved aside beneath the rising tide of hate in my mind.

“Protect the Old Wolf!” I heard Kyrin shout as Stone Fox, now completely out of arrows, leapt down and drew a long dagger from his side. He rolled past the spot where his father had been struck, scooping the Chief’s war axe from the ground where it lay as he forced his way through the horde towards Red Wolf. There were fewer than two dozen grimm left, and the elder, more experienced of their kind were beginning to turn and retreat. I clove through three young beowolves in a single slice before leaping onto the back of the last deathstalker in the pack. This one was much larger than the first I’d killed, its armor much thicker. I stabbed Shadowrend’s midnight blade down, thinking it would crack right through its protective exoskeleton. Instead, the three-position locking pivot at the middle of the two halves of the weapon shattered. Throughout the battle, my blows had been so powerful, and so numerous, that something on my glaive had finally given out. Still, the bony armor cracked, and when the deathstalker attempted to kill me with its stinger, I sidestepped and grabbed its tail like I had the first and jammed it into the weakened spot, killing the beast with its own barb.

One dozen monsters left, and they were in full retreat by this point. I began to sprint after them, but collapsed. My muscles burned, and my body ached from blood loss and fatigue. My Light was fading, just as it always did when I called on it, like it did at Fort Castle and a dozen other skirmishes during the Faunus Rebellion, and even back at Beacon when I’d first experienced my gift in combat. Denial at my inability to slaughter every last one of the beasts caused me to surge to my feet one final time, but my body simply could not take any more, no matter how much I urged it on. I cursed as I stumbled again, rolling onto my back with half of my weapon still in hand. My breathing was heavy and erratic, my pulse far faster and heavier than normal as it hammered in my ears. I looked up into the sky as the howls of the few surviving grimm faded into the woods, replaced by a persistent low ringing that echoed in my mind. A few of the hunter-warriors knelt by my side, Kyrin among them, and after another few moments Summer leapt onto my chest and hugged me tightly. The blood that was spattered across my armor and soaking into my tunic beneath now stained her little hands and face as she shook me, trying to get me to respond. I could see her mouth moving, could read her pleas for me to get up on her lips, but I couldn’t hear her voice. Her tear-soaked face was the last thing I saw before surrendering to my exertion and slipping into vivid dreams of my childhood.

 


	4. Meanwhile, in Another Life...

Leila eyed me curiously as I followed her, her mother, and the scent of chocolate chip cookies into the Nightshade residence’s kitchen. “Why’re you dressed like that?” She asked.

“Wasn’t my idea,” I answered annoyedly. “My mom said it looks ‘dapper’, whatever that means.”

Mrs. Nightshade laughed. “‘Dapper’ means you look handsome. Like a real gentleman.”

“If this is what ‘gentlemen’ wear, I don’t wanna be one when I grow up.”

“Don’t be silly, Cedric, of course you do,” Leila’s mother replied as she pulled an oven mitt over her hand and reached for the door to the stove. “Now, who’s ready for lunch?” The whole kitchen, already pervaded with the wafting, delicious odor of the fresh-baked cookies, was subjected to yet another wave of that amazing smell as the oven door swung down.

“ME!!!” Leila yelled, running over to the ice box and grabbing a pitcher of what I assumed was milk. She sat the pitcher on the counter, which she then clambered atop to reach the cupboard with the glasses. Without wasting a second, she grabbed four and poured a brimming cup full for each of us, which Mr. Nightshade grabbed and brought over to the table as Leila jumped down.

“How many cookies would you like, Cedric?” Mrs. Nightshade asked. I only stared, dumbfounded, at the cookie sheet with its piping-hot load of sweets. Cookies? For _lunch_? Was I in heaven?

“Honey, he’s our guest!” Leila’s father said with a broad smile. “Here!” Without hesitation, he took the spatula and shoveled a dozen cookies onto a plate, sliding them across the table to me.

“Tabor! That’s a third of the sheet!”

“He’s a growing young man! Needs his energy!”

I was too blown away to protest. Not that I would have anyway, though. The rest of the cookies were divided equally amongst the Nightshade family, and the three of them sat down around me at the table. Leila tore into her plate with surprising energy, and her mother and father watched and shared glowing parental grins as every cookie there disappeared in just a few moments. It was somewhere between impressive and scary to watch, actually. Once she’d finished, Leila stared at my plate as I tucked in with a little more self-control. I stared back, and her eyes looked up to meet mine as I ate, the awkward eye-contact not breaking until I was down to the last four cookies on my plate. She’d gotten eight, I’d gotten twelve… I took another swig of milk before handing her two of my remaining cookies, which she took after raising a surprised eyebrow and devoured with gusto.

“Well, that was nice of you, Cedric,” Mrs. Nightshade said. “Sweetie, what do you say?”

Leila finished gulping down the last of her milk before grinning at me. “Thanks, Sailor-boy.”

“Leila…”

“What?”

“Be nice.”

“He doesn’t think I was being mean.” Leila looked back at me, like she was hoping I’d back her up after she’d just made fun of me. “You don’t, right?”

I shook my head. “You’re nicer than my stepbrothers. They’re real mean, though, so that’s not really saying much.”

Leila looked back to her mother. “See?”

By the look she shot her daughter, Mrs. Nightshade wasn’t convinced, but she shrugged after a moment. “Alright, munchkin. You two go out and play, okay? I’ll call you both when it’s time for supper.”

“I need to take this stupid thing off,” I said, fumbling with the gold buttons as I tried to undo the jacket. Mrs. Nightshade stood and helped me take the stifling and silly-looking coat, and I went ahead and kicked off the dumb patent-leather shoes too. Leila ran to the back door, pushing through it and out to that patio, and I followed after Mrs. Nightshade gave me a nod. As I opened the screen door and stepped out, I was surprised by sudden movement to my left. Whirling, I realized that a wooden object was sailing towards me. I didn’t have time to avoid the projectile before it smacked into my face and thudded to the ground at my feet. I was dazed, and rubbed the spot it hit me before looking down to see what it was.

“Ow. What was… A sword?” I said aloud, looking at the child-sized wooden training weapon that lay on the fired-clay pavers in front of me.

“Come on, that was a perfect throw!” Leila said, walking up with a disappointed look on her face. In her hand, she held an identical sword to the one she’d thrown me. I looked from her, to the sword on the ground, and back, once again taken a little by surprise. “I thought all girls played with dolls and did dress-up and stuff.

“That’s what _lame_ girls do. I wanna be a warrior! Like my momma and papa! So, I’ve gotta _train._ ”

“Alright, I guess.”

“What, have your parents not been teaching you to fight?”

“They keep saying that’ll come later. I’m not really sure, though. I feel like my dad really doesn’t want to train me, but my mom says it’s really important, for me especially, to learn how. I don’t know why, yet. She wouldn’t say. But it makes my dad sad to see me actually practice. I think it scares him, really.”

“Well, they’re not here to be scared now. And my parents love to train with me. So, it’s fine! Now come on, pick up your weapon, Mistral warrior!”

“Why do I gotta be the from Mistral? I’d rather be one of those guys from Mantle if I gotta be the bad guy. They had _guns._ ”

“Fine, fine. Whatever. Mantle—er… What’s a person from Mantle called?”

“Uh… I dunno.”

“Whatever. Prepare to meet your end, Mantle-warrior-guy!” Leila exclaimed.

Tentatively, I reached down to scoop up the sword, gripping the twine-wrapped handle and feeling the weight and surprisingly good balance of the toy weapon. “So what are the rules—"

“En garde!” Leila lunged in before I could finish speaking. I leapt back, but tripped over the wood pile and flopped to my back, hard. When I tried to stand, Leila leveled the tip of her weapon at my throat. “That’s one for me! Watch your footing, clumsy!”

I scowled up at her playfully. “I am _not_ clumsy.” Lashing out with my sword, I knocked hers aside and scrambled back, looking for enough room to get to my feet. The fight was on in earnest after that. Neither of us had any real technique. It was just repeated slashes, stabs, maybe a poorly sold feint from time to time, punctuated again and again by the dull _thunk, thunk, thunk_ of the two oaken swords clashing again and again as we each tried to land a hit on the other. Leila managed to tag my dominant arm with a glancing blow, and laughed gleefully.

“Haha! I got your arm! You can’t use it now. Gotta pretend like you’re wounded!”

“What? Since when is that the rules?”

“That’s always been the rules! Don’t you know _anything_? Come on, switch hands. Gotta act like your right arm isn’t there anymore, like I just slashed it off.” I growled my annoyance at the handicap, but did what she said. It felt weird, wielding the weapon in my off-hand, and it didn’t take long before she was able to knock it away and ‘stab’ my ribs with a quick jab as I tried to recover the weight of my sword with my weak hand. “Two for me!” The girl exclaimed.

“What? That first one didn’t count! You never actually hit me!”

“I had _mercy._ Made you my _prisoner_ that time _._ ”

“Well, your ‘prisoner’ just escaped!” I lunged in, taking Leila off-guard and tapping her right arm and left leg before she knew what’d happened.

“That’s cheating! I wasn’t ready!”

“You think a prisoner would wait till his guard was ready to attack? If you can make up rules, I can too! Now, hop around on one leg and switch sword-hands!”

“Wh— _Aggghhh. Fine.”_ Leila lifted the leg I’d cut off and hopped towards me, flailing about with her own off-hand and trying desperately to land a hit as I danced around her, laughing and taunting. Just for good measure, I ‘cut off’ her other leg and arm, and she glared at me as she dropped to her knees before flopping to the ground like a quadruple battle amputee. Defiantly, she bit her sword-hilt and whipped her neck around in a vain hope to catch my leg with the blade, but it was for naught as I, in a role reversal from her initial attack, leveled my own sword at her neck.

“Now we’re each other’s prisoner. Guess it’s a tie.”

“Not if my arms grow back!” Leila grabbed her weapon and leapt up. She lunged, but missed as I dodged left and I took off running, around to the side of the house. I spied a plank of wood tied to a long rope hanging from one of the tree-limbs, and made a break for that at full tilt as Leila, with her slightly longer stride, began to catch up. Before she could quite reach me, though, I jumped for the rope swing. Planting my feet on either side of the plank and gripping the rope with my free hand, my momentum took me out of reach of Leila’s desperate attempt to strike my leg as I retreated. I began to swing back, and Leila had to throw herself to the ground to avoid getting bowled over. I hopped off at the apex of the opposite swing and charged her as she stood. She still had to sidestep the chunk of wood at the end of the rope as it came back, and I used the opportunity to tap her left arm with my blade, rendering it ‘useless’. I pressed the attack too heavily, however, and she was able to catch my left leg with her blade, which she still gripped in her uninjured dominant hand.

It was do or die now, as far as I was concerned. And I already knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it if she beat me. “YAAAARRRGH! For MANTLE!!!” I shouted as I hopped forward and threw myself at her.

“Vale will not be defeated!” She roared back. “Die, you filthy Snowback!”

Our swords clashed as my bodyweight sailed forward, and I used my free-hand to grapple her to the ground with the full-force attack. We both ended up in the dirt, side-by-side, and neither of us attempted to parry the other as we both swung down for each other’s throats. Our blades tapped our respective opponent’s necks simultaneously, and we both shared a look as we realized that we’d only managed to come to a draw yet again.

“Well, I guess it’s still a tie,” Leila said with a grin.

I stood first and reached my hand out to help her up, hauling her to her feet and shrugging. “What else is there to do around here?”

“ _Hmm._ Well, we could go down to the beach. Or we could climb the trees. Or… _Oh_!”

“What?”

“I never introduced you to Luna!”

“Who’s Luna?”

“My dog!”

“You have a dog?” I asked. I felt a twinge of jealousy… I’d always wanted a dog. “Where is it?”

“She’s resting in the dog house. She’s gonna have puppies soon!” Leila grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the side of the house, towards a shady spot beneath the largest of the five live oaks. “Come on!”

I saw the small red doghouse from around the corner. It looked like a small house of its own, almost large enough to be considered a shed if it weren’t for the only entrance being relatively tiny door with a simple cloth flap over it, built onto the side of the Nightshade’s residence on the back side of the stone chimney. The warmth from the stone when a fire burned in the hearth indoors probably warmed the doghouse on the cold winter nights in Vytal. As we trotted up, Leila knelt down and crawled right into the flap that covered the door. I followed behind after a moment. Before my eyes could adjust, I saw a gigantic, fuzzy outline that whimpered excitedly as its little human threw her arms around the dog and buried her face in the floof about her neck.

“Hey girl!” Leila said excitedly, grinning from ear to ear as the fluffy shape twice my size nuzzled and licked her repeatedly. “Awe doggy kissies! Here, give some to Cedric, girl. No, Cedric! Over there! Get him, girl!”

“What? Ack- _pppbblltt—"_ The massive shape pulled itself over to me and began slobbering all over my face. “Hey- _pwah—_ hey stop that!” My protests turned into laughter as Luna doggedly continued to show me just how excited she was to have visitors. Eventually, she quit licking and began sniffing me intently, like she was trying to memorize the scent of what she probably thought was another two-legged furless puppy of hers.

“My momma and papa found her during the war. Couldn’t find her owners, and there were a lot of monsters around in this village they were in. She was just a puppy. So, they took her in and she became like their regi… Uh… Regi-men-nental mascot or something.”

“Regimental,” I corrected her. My dad had taught me and my stepbrothers a little about military units. I knew my parents and Leila’s had been in the same battalion, which was a step below regiment. My mother and father had been in the cavalry company, though, and Mr. and Mrs. Nightshade were foot soldiers in one of the infantry cohorts. All I knew is that they’d met on the battlefield, but nothing else.

So, Luna had seen this ‘war’ thing that everyone always talked of. I wondered what she thought about it all, as I looked into her soulful blue eyes. I’d adjusted to the dimness of the doghouse by then, and could see her more clearly. She looked like a great white-and-grey wolf. I’d seen the breed before, pulling sleds in movies about the Dust Rush that was going on in Solitas, though I didn’t know what they were called. She was heavy with puppy and sporting a thick winter coat. Two darker grey, crescent moon-like markings beneath her eyes accented them and made her stare seem all that much more piercing. I imagined that the markings were what she’d been named for. I scratched between and beneath her ears, wishing I could ask about the war that my parents wouldn’t ever tell me about. She lay her muzzle on my forearm and licked at it, and I imagined then that she wanted to talk about it, but she was sad that I didn’t speak her language and couldn’t understand her. Naught but my imagination, that. Still, I wished someone would tell me about it someday.

“She’s sleepy. I think she’s always tired since she started making the puppies in there.” Leila said as she softly pet Luna’s swollen flank. “I can feel them moving around. I bet they’ll be born soon. I hope they look just like her.”

“What’s the dad look like?”

“Dunno. Never saw him. Mom and dad didn’t either.”

“Huh. Kinda rude of him not to stick around.”

“I know, right?” Leila said with a grin. “Come on. Let’s go. Let her sleep for now.” The two of us crawled out of the doghouse and stood. I walked over to the rope-swing and lazily hooked my legs over the suspended plank, swinging gently back and forth for a moment before Leila again spoke. “Wanna go down to the beach? There’s some caves down there that I’ve always wanted to explore, but a Knight of Vale needs a loyal squire if she’s going to be exploring a dungeon.”

I looked around like I was searching for something. “Hm. Well, that’s just too bad. I don’t see any squires around at all.”

“You, dummy!”

“Me?” I feigned offense. “I believe you have me confused with someone. _I_ am General Arc, Hero of the Grand Army of Vale. I don’t blame you for making the mistake. The light must’ve reflected off my sword and armor and blinded you.” I puffed out my chest like I imagined the great hero-general I’d heard about in stories since I was little would.

“Only thing blinding here is your ego,” Leila jabbed. “Now, if _you’re_ General Arc, I’m the Warrior Princess of Mistral.”

“Too late. You already said you were just a knight. You can’t change it now since I picked something better.”

“Since when? You’re just mad because the Warrior Princess was a better warrior than General Arc.”

“No, she _wasn’t_.”

“She was! Her legions crossed Sanas and almost conquered Vale during the war. My parents told me the story!”

“Yeah, _almost_. Then General Arc stopped her! With like, _half_ as many soldiers! The princess was wounded and captured by General Arc himself!”

“They wounded _each other._ ”

“I never heard that,” I said. I could tell, though, that Leila wasn’t gonna let this go unless I let her pretend to be the Warrior Princess. “Alright, fine. Whatever. You’re the Warrior Princess of Mistral. You sure don’t look like it.”

“What do you mean by that, huh?”

“Well, my mother says the warrior princess was super, super beautiful. You’re kinda just...”

“ _What?_ You tryna say _I’m_ not super, super beautiful too!?” Leila interrupted, clearly incensed by the implication.

“Eh,” I replied with a shrug.

“ _WHAT???_ ” She shot back, outraged. “Well, y’know, General Arc was supposed be blonde and tall and handsome. Not a little shrimp like you.”

“Little shrimp? You’re barely two inches taller than me.”

“Four, at least.”

“Nuh- _uhhh_!” I shifted subtly onto the balls of my feet to gain an inch without being too obvious.

“You’re on your tip-toes!”

“Am _not,_ look!” I motioned for her to check for herself. She did, inspecting my heels closely. They still brushed against the ground, and with the grass in the field it really was hard to tell. The ploy worked, and she grumbled annoyedly.

“Whatever. Well, you’re still shorter than me. And you’re too young.”

“Course I’m too young. I’m six! So are you!”

“Nuh-uh. I’m seven! And I’ll have you know I’ve already started working on getting an aura!”

“So have I!” I insisted. I hadn’t, really. I mean, I’d tried. My mother had helped me get it to flicker once or twice on my fingertips before, but It was too frustrating and exhausting to practice, but I didn’t want to admit that she had something I didn’t. “Oh alright. Fine, you can be the Warrior Princess. Come on, your highness. We’ve got grimm to kill,” I said before the angry little girl popped a blood vessel. She was still steaming a little, but seemed to understand that I hadn’t exactly been serious.

I grabbed my wooden sword and shoved the blade through one of the beltloops on the set of fancy trousers I had on, part of that stupid sailor’s ensemble I’d been wearing. The beltloop ripped a little, but I didn’t care, I hated the outfit anyway. The two of us set off past the house and down the gentle, grassy hill that ran all the way down to the main road and to the cliffs beyond. Before we got too far, I heard the front porch door swing open and turned to see Leila’s mother sticking her head out.

“Don’t go too far down the beach, kids!” She called. “If you can’t hear me call you for dinner from the road, you’re too far!”

“Got it, momma!” Leila shouted back. Turning to me, she grinned. “I’ll race you.”

“You’ll lose,” I replied smartly.

“Psh. Yeah, right. To the road, alright? Ready?”

“Set,” I said crouching and readying my best sprinting stance.

“GO!” Leila yelled, and the two of us tore off down the field towards the road as fast as we could. She had a longer stride, but I was determined not to let a girl in a skirt beat me. In the downhill stretch, that advantage was enough to give her a several-meter lead. As the road grew closer, however, and the ground flattened out, I summoned as much of my reserve strength as I could to try and begin to close the gap.

“I’m gonna beat you!” She called back over her shoulder.

“No, you’re not!” I grit my teeth and churned my legs even faster. Slowly, but surely, I was reeling her in, until we were neck and neck about three meters from the road. Just beyond was the sharp hill that led down to a cascading series of rocky cliffs… But I had no intention of putting on the brakes as we approached the finish. She did, cutting her speed and hitting the road about a half of a meter behind me because of it. “Yeah! Whooo _Hoo!_ I beat you-whoawhoa _WHOAAAA_!!!” I dug my heels, but my bare feet only skidded on the loose dirt and I careened right across the coastal path and over the embankment on the opposite side. Head over heels over elbows over knees I tumbled. There was nothing but grass to grab onto, and I was quickly rolling uncontrollably towards the first of several five to seven-meter drop offs, each amounting to a fall that could break bone.

“Cedric!” I heard Leila call after me.

I had to think of something to slow myself down, and _fast_ , or I’d be taking the quickest route possible down to the rocky beach below. I had no idea what to do… Until I did. It was the strangest thing, an instinct I didn’t know I had. The panic in my mind silenced, and I managed to orient myself feet-first as I continued to slide down the ever-steepening hill. My hand automatically found the wooden sword that I’d tumbled down with, still shoved into my beltloop. I drew it, and noticed a weird white glow ripple across my entire hand and forearm as I jammed the toy weapon blade-first into the dirt. Holding on with both hands clenched in a white-knuckle grip on the hilt, my momentum snapped to a halt, and I felt my elbows and shoulders pop from the strain of the sudden stop.

The bizarre white energy I’d seen on my arms abated with a crackling sound, and I had to ask myself twice about whether or not I’d imagined the sight of it or not. In the same line of thought, I puzzled over how in the world I’d actually managed to _do_ what I’d just done… There was a five-foot gouge dug into the hill proceeding up from the blade of my toy sword, and the weapon itself was jammed up to the hilt in dirt and grass that were none-too-soft to the touch. It would’ve taken _a lot_ more strength than I thought I had to do that. I looked around after I realized that no answers were presenting themselves, and sighed with relief. How I’d done it didn’t matter. I was no longer tumbling down the cliffs.

Slowly, I pulled the sword from the hill and began inching my way back up, using short shrubs as foot and hand holds as I crawled up, ever careful not to slip and begin sliding down once again. Eventually, I reached a point where the slope was level enough to stand, and I did, jogging back up the hill once I had my feet under me. Leila raised an eyebrow at me as I made it back to the road. “Y’know, there’s a way to get down to the beach without falling off the cliff.”

“Har-har,” I replied sarcastically. “I still beat you in the race.”

“Please. I let you win and you know it.”

“A win’s a win.”

Leila growled annoyedly. “Fine. Whatever. You won. Come on, this way.” She led me down the road a bit to a branch-off path that followed a series of switchbacks all the way down to the cliffs. A stairway had been built into the cliffs themselves that we took the rest of the way to Vytal’s pebble-strewn beach. The waves lapped against the shore with a soothing rhythm as the two of us made our way down towards a bend in the shoreline. I’d gotten a few nicks and bruises from the fall, but nothing serious. My navy-blue trousers had ripped, but I certainly didn’t care about that.

“There,” Leila said, pointing out the first sea-cave that was high and dry now at low-tide. “Draw swords, General. We don’t know what we’re getting into here.”

I grinned, brandishing my wooden weapon. “With pleasure, Princess Yao. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“As if _I_ need protection,” Leila replied in-character. The two of us entered the cave, whose rocky walls stretched back into utter darkness before us. Inside, the constant crashing of waves on the beach was muted, and the only sound was dripping water from somewhere deeper within.

“I can’t see anything.”

“Yeah, maybe we should’ve brought a light.”

“Hang on, what’s that?” I said, seeing a shape the looked like a weird rock of some kind lying on a ledge a little further in. I scrambled up to see what it was, but still couldn’t quite tell in the dim of the cave. I grabbed it, sliding down the cave wall from the ledge and angling my find to catch more light from the cave entrance. “Oh, _cool_!”

“What is it?” Leila asked, walking up beside me.

“It’s a skull!” I replied, triumphantly showing her the bleached-white remains.

She recoiled, but still stared with fascination at the morbid sight. “That’s gross!”

“What do you think it was?”

“I don’t know. Deer? Maybe? Or… Oh… Y’know what? It kinda looks like it coulda been a seal! It’s the right size, anyway. My daddy showed me a bunch of ‘em that were down here once.”

“That’s neat,” I said, looking at it intently.

“I wonder how it got back there. Do you think it washed in here with the tide? Did you see any more bones up there?”

“Nope, just this. Weird. Hey look, I’m a grimm!” I exclaimed, holding the skull up in front of my own face and stepping threateningly towards Leila. “ _RrrraaAARRRR!_ ”

“Is that so? _Die_ , foul monster! _YAH_!” Leila rapped her sword on the skull, and I pretended to roar in pain.

“Argg—I mean, er… RAWWRRRR!”

“Hyyyyy _YYAHH_!” Leila bounded away as I splayed the fingers of my free hand like claws and pawed at her. She kicked off the cave wall and lunged back, jabbing me in the shoulder, then following up with another stab that caught in the skull’s eye-socket. “Ew! Get it off, get it off!” She exclaimed as she waved the toy weapon and its new decoration around. The skull was stuck fast, though, and wouldn’t come off from her simply shaking her sword about. She slammed it against the cave wall, and it broke free, tumbling towards the cave entrance. “There, got it! Haha! I killed a grimm!” She turned back towards me gleefully, and neither of us noticed the skull roll past a black shape that now filled the entrance to the little grotto. I only noticed when a new growl, far more menacing than any I could muster in role-play, echoed around us.

 _“Rrrrrrrggghh…”_ The throaty, ragged sound rumbled from my left. The shadow cast by the creature darkened the cave even further, and I turned my head nervously.

“Hey, you’re not a grimm anymore. I killed you, remember!” Leila said. Her voice was a little more on-edge, probably because she knew I hadn’t made the sound. My mouth hadn’t moved, and she’d been looking right at me.

I continued to turn my head slowly to the cave entrance. “That… Wasn’t me.” I saw the shape a moment before she did, and when she followed my gaze and saw the fearsome-looking black silhouette that was stalking towards us, she screamed.

“Grimm!” She shouted. The monster continued to walk forwards, calmly, one methodical step at a time. It knew we couldn’t escape. Yellow eyes gleamed at us from its furry face. I realized after a moment that something was off about it, though. This grimm didn’t have any bony faceplate, like I knew most, if not all of the other monsters had. Its eyes weren’t what I imagined, either. My parents had made sure my brothers and I were well aware of how to tell a grimm from a distance. This creature’s eyes weren’t the color of fire, and definitely had pupils, like a dog or a person, or any other animal.

“Wait… That’s not a grimm, Leila. It’s a wolf!”

“A wolf? Are you sure?”

“If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask it!? It’s not a grimm! I’m sure of that! S-stay back, you!” I shouted, waving my sword as the creature got closer. It was three times my size, covered in dark fur. Who was I kidding? The creature wouldn’t even be phased by some little stick. I backed up, but tripped over a low outcrop of the cave wall that I hadn’t seen. The wolf now loomed over me, barely two meters away. “Leila, get back!”

“No way!” She took a rock from the cave floor and chucked it. It missed. Another one sailed over my shoulder, this one smacking into the ground at its feet. The monster stopped and stared intently at Leila and at each pebble she threw, holding position and dodging easily to its right to avoid the third. It let out a growl that became a bark. “Leave us _alone!”_ Leila shouted, throwing another rock. I heard a weird crackle right then, and chanced a look back. A blueish ripple of energy surrounded her body as she spoke, and the creature’s ears, that had been flat against its head as it’d approached, now perked up. It made no effort to dodge the fourth rock, which tagged it on the snout. It barely flinched, instead continuing to stare into Leila’s eyes.

“I _said…_ Get _BACK!”_ She shouted again. The creature cocked its head, its expression morphing from threatening to inquisitive. Leila’s expression changed too. “Wait… Did you…”

“Did I what?” I asked, scrambling back closer to her and standing.

“Not you,” She replied to me. “You…” Leila said, meeting the wolf’s gaze. “You can understand me? How?”

“Leila, are you… _Talking_ to the _wolf_?”

“ _Shhh,_ ” She shushed to me. “I don’t know either… I’ve never done this before, sir.”

“Did you just call it _sir?_!”

“What’d I say? _Shush!_ ” Leila said, swatting at me. “I’m sorry. We were just exploring, we didn’t know this was _your_ cave, mister…” She paused, as if listening to a response, before shrugging. “I live up there, on the hill. I guess that means we’re neighbors… And, well… Humans don’t eat their neighbors. I don’t know if wolves do or not, but… Plus, y’know… Well, I dunno, I’d kinda rather not get eaten. Pretty sure he wouldn’t either.”

At this point I still had _no_ idea what was going on, but we weren’t being eaten by a massive black wolf right then, so whatever was happening, it was working.

“I know you didn’t _ask_ if we’d rather not get eaten, but… One reason? Uh, okay, uh… Well, Luna would be really sad if I died… Oh, Luna? She’s part of my family, but she’s like you!” Leila listened for another moment, before a look of realization crossed her face. “Really? Oh, _wow_! Wait till my mom and dad find out about this! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” I did a double take as Leila walked past me, right up to the wolf. It sat, towering over her, and raised a paw, which she shook. This was unbelievable. She just _shook paws_ with a _wild wolf._

After a moment, Leila frowned. “Oh, _no…_ I’m so sorry to hear that, sir. At least you killed it for them, right?” Another few seconds passed as she once again heard his response. “That’s amazing… We didn’t know who their daddy was, and now we do! Great to have you in the family, mister!” Leila looked back over her shoulder and waved me forward before turning back to the wolf. “You know they’ll be born soon! I bet they’ll be as big as you, someday! Come on, Cedric. Mr. Akela said we looked too skinny to eat anyway, and I have nice manners.”

“Uhh… Oh—Okay…” I replied, eyes glued on the wolf as it sat and allowed us to pass. The powerfully built predator held my eye contact as I passed, its face utterly neutral. Leila and I emerged from the cave and trotted a ways down the beach before I saw the blue energy that had activated across her body a minute before fizzle out. She caught her breath, beads of sweat forming on her face as she paused.

“That’s the longest I’ve ever held my aura,” she said. “I’m _exhausted_.”

“ _That’s_ what you’re thinking about right now? What just _happened_ in there!?”

“I don’t know. I could understand him, he could understand me. He said that was his cave. He smelled us from up the beach, where he’d been hunting more seal, so he came to check it out.”

“And how’d you convince him not to make us his lunch instead?”

“He asked me to give him one reason not to. I told him Luna would be sad, and he was all like, ‘Who’s Luna?’ And I was like, ‘She’s part of my family, but she’s like you,’ which I’m pretty sure you heard. And then, guess what?”

“What?”

“He said he knew Luna. He’s the puppies’ father!”

 


End file.
